


Royal Blossoms

by DefinitelyNotLuna



Category: Persona 5, Persona 5 Royal
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, F/M, Persona 5: The Royal, Persona 5: The Royal Spoilers, Retelling, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:27:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 83,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26125735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DefinitelyNotLuna/pseuds/DefinitelyNotLuna
Summary: Akira Kurusu moves to Tokyo in early March under new circumstances. But as he bears witness to a shocking accident, his fate is set upon the path of ruin: one that he can only avoid with faith in his trusty confidants and his own brand of justice.A retelling of Persona 5 Royal with an expanded focus on Kasumi, Sumire and Akechi. Beware of spoilers!
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Yoshizawa Sumire | Yoshizawa Kasumi, Kurusu Akira/Yoshizawa Sumire | Yoshizawa Kasumi, Persona 5 Protagonist/Yoshizawa Sumire | Yoshizawa Kasumi
Comments: 144
Kudos: 243





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi folks,
> 
> This is my first ever fan-fiction piece: I'm not unaccustomed to writing and I've dabbled in fictional stories, but for the sake of this site and format, this is my first story. Persona 5 Royal was a blast, but it left me wanting for a lot more of both Kasumi and Sumire, so this is my attempt at remedying that. Please let me know what you think! No doubt there will be things to improve upon, so as a fledgling fan-fiction writer I'd welcome any critique you all have to offer.
> 
> As for the story, this is a retelling of the events of Royal with a few 'what-ifs'.  
> \- What if the Trickster moves to Tokyo without a criminal record?  
> \- What if he was present at the fateful moment between Kasumi and Sumire Yoshizawa?  
> \- What if Akechi met the Trickster before the emergence of the Phantom Thieves?
> 
> Enjoy!

Akira Kurusu swayed in the subway carriage, balancing himself with one hand gripped to a swinging handhold. The clacking sound of the rails was muffled by the wireless earbuds sitting in his ears.

His eyes pierced through the window. The bright visage of Shibuya Crossing bombarded his vision; advertisements and promotions dominated his view with flashes of vibrant colour.

Then the view faded, in an instant.

The darkness of the underground swallowed the train carriage once more. Akira closed his eyes, the quiet melody in his ears wrapped around his mind.

Moments pass, until he opened an eye. Akira pulled one earbud from his ear.

_…tation is Yongen-jaya. The next station is Yongen-jaya. Passengers destined for the Tokyu Setagaya line, please change here._

Akira inserted his earbud once more and repositioned himself by the doors. He’d heard horror stories of the Tokyo subway, but thankfully his trip had been uneventful. The carriage was close to empty: whether he had avoided rush hour or it was a mere stroke of luck, he could not say.

As the train came to a stop beside the platform, Akira grabbed his suitcase and disembarked.

* * *

Scanning the apps on his phone, Akira took his first few steps in Yongen-jaya. He opened a map application and input the address he’d received from his parents.

“3 minutes. At least it’s close to the station.” Akira muttered.

He picked up his stride once more, taking in the ordinary sights of Yongen-jaya’s backstreets.

His expectations of the sleepy district were low, but to his surprise there were several places that piqued his interest: a batting cage, various discount shops and a local movie theatre. He made a short list on his phone for future reference.

As Akira turned a corner, he spotted a placard on the wall outside a small home.

“Sakura. This must be it.”

He removed his earbuds, approached the front door and rung the bell.

Akira’s ears pricked to the sound of a crash from inside, like something falling off a desk or the collapsing of a chair. He waited a moment before knocking on the door with his knuckles.

“Sakura-san? Are you in there?”

No answer.

Akira took a few steps back from the door, checking the placard at the front of the house once more and double-checking the address on his phone.

_Did I make a mistake somehow? It says ‘Sakura’ on the front but-_

His thoughts were interrupted.

“Hey kid! You looking for Sakura-san?”

Akira turned to a delivery driver who had pulled up nearby.

“The fellow runs a café just down the street called Leblanc. Head back towards the station and take a left after the first block. It’s opposite a bathhouse, can’t miss it.”

Akira bowed with a sincere smile.

“Thank you. Truly.”

The delivery driver chuckled and turned his attention back to the clipboard listing his deliveries.

“Don’t sweat it kid, no need for such formality. And if you could do me a favour, tell the old man I’ve got a package for him that needs a signature. Looks like some computer parts or something.”

Computer parts? Akira recalled conversations he’d overheard from his peers at his old school. Many had spoken fondly of older siblings who enjoyed building custom computers. Akira had only spoken to Sakura-san over the phone, but his impression of the man was not that of someone who would build a custom computer.

He dispelled the thought from his mind.

“Of course, I’ll let him know. Thanks again.”

* * *

Akira studied the modest red and white awning.

“Leblanc Coffee & Curry. I guess this is the place.”

The door chimed as he stepped inside.

Akira was immediately struck by the homely atmosphere of the café. The interior was small: with three booths and a handful of seats by the counter, Leblanc would be pressed to seat more than twenty or so people.

But he observed the great care that had been taken in organising jars of coffee beans. The lighting refracted from the colourful mosaic lightshades coated the café with a gentle glow, and the quiet hum of a television on the far wall was subtle enough so as not to cause distraction.

An elderly couple sat in a booth on the café’s far side, watching a breaking news story with great interest. The woman droned on with her hands wrapped around a warm mug of coffee.

“To think that IT company president would take his own life. I always knew those rumours of the misconduct at his company were true. It’s deplorable, utterly deplorable.”

Her husband reciprocated her gossiping.

“Strange that he’d take his life before all of it came to light though, hm? What do you make of it Boss?”

The elderly man turned to the middle-aged barista seated by the counter, running his fingers down his black goatee with one leg resting over a knee. The gossiping of his patrons did nothing to seize his attention.

“Number six down…” he muttered. “A mid-Autumn festival honouring the moon.”

Akira cleared his throat.

“Excuse me, do you know where I can find Sakura-san?”

The middle-aged man peered up from his crossword, peering over his glasses with a heavy glance.

“Yeah I know where he is. What do you need, kid?”

“My name is Akira Kurusu. I just moved to Tokyo today and I’m staying with Sakura-san. I was told I could find him here.”

The man slowly stood to his feet.

“I suppose they did say that was today. So, you’re Akira huh? I’m Sojiro Sakura, you’ll be my guest for the year.”

The elderly couple shuffled out of the booth. They pass by Sojiro and Akira en route to the exit.

“We’ll leave you to get the young man settled in. The payment is on the table. Stay safe Sakura-san, Tokyo is a frightful place with all these mysterious deaths going on.”

Sojiro waves the couple off with a quiet chuckle.

“Yeah yeah, will do. Come again.”

He shifts his focus back to Akira, still standing attentively with his suitcase in hand. He gestures with a nod of his head, crossword still in hand.

“Follow me.”

* * *

The upstairs room was large by Tokyo standards: with enough floor space to match the café below, and furnished to boot, Akira was pleasantly surprised.

But it was hard to ignore the thick layer of dust coating every surface of the room. Cobwebs littered the space behind the messy shelves, and a cloud of dust whipped around the air as Sojiro drew back the curtains and opened a window.

“You’ll be staying here.” Sojiro paused. “You look like you’ve got something to say.”

Akira snapped to attention, realising he’d been inspecting the room without saying so much as a word.

“It’s big. Bigger than I was expecting.” Akira said breezily.

“Yeah, I know what you’re thinking, but it’s on you to clean the place up. I’m too busy with the café and all.”

Akira wheeled his suitcase to the far side of the room beside the makeshift bed.

“You’ll be here alone in the evenings once I lock up, but in case you haven’t realised, the restaurant business relies heavily on presentation. Don’t do anything stupid downstairs or cause any ruckus.”

Akira nodded dutifully.

“Now I reckon I’ve got the gist of your situation.” Sojiro continued. “Your parents are close with a regular of mine, you see. They moved overseas for work, but they left you here in Japan so as not to uproot your life or disrupt your studies, something like that. So, without a place to stay in your hometown, you transferred to a new school here in Tokyo for a year until they’re back. That right?”

Akira nodded once more.

“Talk about a tough break.” Sojiro sighed. “Well I know this place isn’t much, but you seem like an honest kid. I can let you stay here rent-free if you help out downstairs when you’re not busy with school.”

“Thank you, Sakura-san, I’m grateful.” Akira smiled.

“Please, call me Sojiro. Provided you pull your weight, you can stay for as long as you need. I can teach you a thing or two about coffee as well, if you’d like. Plenty of girls out there who’ll flock to a kid like you who knows how to make a damn fine cup of coffee.”

Sakura turns back towards the stairs.

“I’m closing up for the day, so take the evening to unpack your things and get settled in. I’ll be back tomorrow morning to run you through the shop."

Akira chimed in.

“Sojiro?”

“Hmm? What is it kid?”

“Tsukimi. The mid-Autumn festival. See if it fits.”

Sojiro raises the crossword puzzle once more and scans it carefully, hovering a pen over the page. He counts the boxes in his head, comparing Akira’s suggestion to the letters filled in by other solutions. He smiles heartily.

“And here I was worried you’d be some kind of delinquent. We’ll get along just fine kid.”

Akira grins with joy as Sojiro descends the stairs, leaving him alone in the dusty loft.

* * *

The young man opened the metal briefcase with practised routine. He extended a gloved hand to the grip of the pistol, weighing it in his hand. With impressive dexterity, he loaded an ammo magazine and screwed the silencer onto the end of the barrel.

His striking brown eyes inspected the fully assembled weapon carefully. With a nod, he pulled back on the slide and armed the firearm. The man seized his mobile phone with one hand and opened the recent message.

He had been assigned two targets this time.

**_TARO TANABE – CEO OF TANABE GROCERIES_ **

**_JUN MAKINO – DELIVERY DRIVER FOR TANABE GROCERIES_ **

Akechi began his deductions. As the CEO of a prominent food and produce company, it stands to reason that his success represented an obstacle to Okumura Foods, one of Shido-san’s wealthy associates. No doubt his fate was sealed by Kunikazu Okumura in a bid to tighten his grip on his sector, a request which Shido was all too happy to grant.

As for Jun Makino, he was probably the unfortunate individual who would be held responsible for Tanabe’s death.

This wasn’t the first time Akechi had been ordered to dispose of an unremarkable individual: a spree of high-profile deaths would naturally stir unwelcome attention. But inciting accidents or tragedies through the death of an unknown public worker gave Masayoshi Shido the opportunity he needed to lambast whoever he could hold responsible. All it took was a little intervention on his part.

Satisfied with his train of thought, Akechi sealed the empty suitcase and picked it up once more. He quickened his stride down the ethereal escalators of Mementos, pistol held ready at his side.

* * *

In the week following his arrival, Akira Kurusu quickly settled in to life at Leblanc. The school semester wouldn’t begin for a few more weeks, so Akira occupied his time tending the shop, learning from Sojiro and familiarising himself with the local area.

He stood by the counter donning a humble green apron, idly cleaning a coffee cup with a damp rag. Sojiro was absorbed in his crossword as always, while a single patron sat in a booth muttering about a recently released film drawing on a napkin.

A thought wandered into Akira’s mind.

“Sakura-san! I’m sorry I just remembered, a few days ago when I first arrived, there was a delivery man who had a parcel for you. He said you needed to sign for it, something about computer parts?”

Sojiro stood up, reluctantly roused from his puzzle. He glanced at his wristwatch.

“That so, huh? He’ll be making his deliveries around this time. Mind keeping an eye on the store for a while?”

“Absolutely.” Akira chimed.

Sojiro gave a warm smile. Placing the crossword on the counter, he stepped outside.

The sole patron took his leave shortly after Sojiro, leaving Akira alone in the cozy café.

Ten or fifteen minutes passed until the door chimed once more. Akira, who had since taken over Sojiro’s crossword puzzle, jumped out from his seat. While he expected Sojiro to reprimand him for stealing his puzzle, Akira was surprised to see an unfamiliar customer.

A middle-aged man with dark combed hair and an orange-brown trench coat stepped into Leblanc. He brought one hand to his gray glasses to adjust them briefly, before taking a seat at the counter.

Akira turned on the hospitality, incorporating the lessons Sojiro had offered about taking care of customers.

“Welcome to Leblanc. Can I get you anything, sir?”

The middle-aged man released his coat over the back of his wooden chair. He took a cursory glance at the menu.

“I’ll just get a cup of the house blend. Hold on the milk and sugar if you will.”

Akira gave a formal bow.

“Of course, sir, coming right up.”

The middle-aged man smiled.

“Your formality is admirable, but there’s no need for the ‘Sir’, I hear it often enough at work. My name’s Shinichi Yoshizawa, but feel free to call me Shinichi or Yoshizawa-san.”

Akira nodded with understanding. He picked up an empty coffee mug and began to prepare it.

“Will do, Yoshizawa-san. So, what is it that you do for work?”

“I work in TV. At the moment I direct a daytime talk show called ‘Good Morning Japan,’ perhaps you’ve heard of it?”

“I have.” Akira nodded with recognition. “If I recall, that’s the show that’s been covering some of the recent accidents around Tokyo. You featured that high-school detective, right?”

Shinichi smiled. “Indeed! Akechi-kun is a sharp kid, he’s got a bright future ahead of him, no doubt. He’s popular among young people your age too, it’s done wonders for our ratings.”

Akira turned his head with curiosity.

“Is that so? I suppose Good Morning Japan isn't the kind of show that would typically attract viewership from young people.”

“You’re not wrong.” Shinichi affirmed. “But ever since Akechi-kun started making appearances on the show, we’ve had no shortage of messages from younger viewers. Even my own daughters seem enraptured by him whenever he appears.”

Shinichi chuckled to himself as Akira put the finishing touches on his coffee. He placed it in front of the man on a coaster.

“Thank you kindly, young man. I didn’t catch your name.”

“Akira Kurusu. I just moved to Tokyo, Sakura-san is offering me accommodation here, so I’ve started helping around the shop in return.”

“Is that so?” Shinichi mused. “You seem to be around the same age as my daughters, perhaps I should bring them next time I visit.”

“That would be nice.” Akira smiled. “They’re always welcome.”

Shinichi took a sip of his coffee, cradling the mug in his hands.

“I’m glad to hear. Kasumi is starting to acquire a taste for coffee, while Sumire has a natural aptitude for cooking. With fine coffee such as this and homecooked meals, I’m sure they’d feel right at home here.”

Akira pondered the names in his head momentarily. _Blossom and Violet._

“They’re lovely names. Fitting for the season too, I hear we can expect the first cherry blossoms any day now."

Shinichi’s face lit up.

“Very sharp! Yes, my wife adores the bloom of cherry blossoms and our girls were born together on the 25th. The names seemed almost predestined."

Akira smiled sincerely. The conversation between him and Shinichi Yoshizawa continued, until the door chimed once more to announce Sojiro’s return. He stepped through the door, hanging his signature white hat by the entrance.

Recognising an unfamiliar customer at the counter, Sojiro brushed off his clothes and joined Akira behind the counter.

“Welcome to Leblanc. Hope the new part-timer wasn’t giving you any hassle.”

“Quite the opposite.” Shinichi beamed. “It’s been such a pleasure conversing with this young man that I’ve all but lost track of time. It’s my day off, but I’m meeting my daughters for dinner in Shibuya after their training. I’ll have to return in the future.”

Sojiro quickly disguised the surprise on his face. Truthfully. he expected Akira to handle customers well, but to turn a newcomer into a potential regular with such speed was unexpected to say the least.

“I- Is that so? Our doors are always open, you’d be welcome any time.”

Shinichi nodded with a smile and returned the empty coffee cup to the saucer on the counter. Wrapping himself in his coat once more, he offered a wave to the men behind the counter.

“Thanks again for the drink Kurusu-kun. I look forward to my next visit.”

Shinichi Yoshizawa took his leave.

Sojiro turned to Akira with a sly grin, nudging him on the arm.

“Who knew I’d been gifted with such a dependable kid? Good work, sounds like you brewed a half-decent cup too.”

* * *

As the day drifted on, Sojiro penned the final answer into the crossword puzzle. Tossing the magazine to the counter with a sigh, he glanced at his wristwatch. Sojiro turned to Akira, who was busy cleaning dishes at the back of the café.

“Hey kid, I’m going to close up early today. I’ve got to sort something out with that delivery from earlier today.”

“Was there a problem with the parcel?” Akira queried.

“In a sense. Wrong computer parts I'm told, whatever that means. Here I thought they were all the same. But if you don’t mind, we’re running low on Colombian Typica. It’s a premium coffee bean, but there’s a specialty supplier in Shibuya that should have some available. I’ll send you the address; tell them I sent you and they should sort you out.”

“No problem at all.” Akira nodded. “I’m keen to see more of Shibuya.”

Sojiro gave a wide grin and handed Akira a few five-thousand yen notes.

“You’re a lifesaver kid. That should cover it and a bit extra, get yourself something nice as thanks.”

Sojiro departed the café, leaving Akira to finish wiping down the counter and tidying the shelves. He made his own departure shortly afterwards, flipping the sign hanging from the front door to 'closed' and walking towards Yongen-jaya station.

* * *

Akira cursed his luck. Everything had gone smoothly: the trains to Shibuya were bearable despite the time nearing Tokyo’s rush hour and there’d been no trouble procuring the coffee beans for Sojiro. But once he’d taken his first step outside the store, the skies parted and unleashed a torrent of rain upon him.

Without an umbrella, Akira hurried to Shibuya crossing, shielding the heavy bag of coffee beans beneath his damp jacket. Worse still, he couldn’t risk wearing his wireless earbuds in the rain. Bereft of both music and shelter, Akira quickly weaved through the busy Shibuya crowds, eager to reach the station with all haste.

His ears perked up at the sounds of gossip and conversation all around him.

_“Another accident? What’s happening to this country…”_

_“I can’t wait for the new game to come out tomorrow! It’s going to be great!”_

_“You know why? Because it’s my right as the elder sister.”_

Akira approached a crossing about a block or two away from Shibuya station. He waited patiently, staring down the red light opposite the road.

_“Ugh, the school semester is going to start soon. What a drag…”_

_“You’ll never understand how I feel, Kasumi.”_

_“I hear they opened up this amazing new place at Suidobashi!”_

The rainfall slowed, as if the droplets were decelerating and pausing in freefall. The name rang in his head.

_Kasumi._

Akira turned around. Two girls stood side by side, sheltered by beige and violet umbrellas. The shades of their hair differed and they wore it in different styles, but setting those differences aside the two were near identical.

Akira’s eyes scanned the pair. The taller girl with the auburn ponytail and the bespectacled girl with vibrant long hair.

There was little doubt in his mind.

The light turned green.

Pedestrians stepped out into the crossing. The two redheaded sisters followed suit, passing Akira who remained stationary on the pavement.

The painful screeching of a tire pierced his ears like a spike.

Akira turned to see a truck rapidly approaching, far beyond the speed limit of Shibuya’s busy roads. Onlookers quickly grasped the direction of the truck and cleared off the crossing with the utmost haste.

Akira stole a cursory glance through the windshield of the approaching truck. The driver’s hands were gripped to the wheel, stiff like a vice. And though it was difficult to tell, the look in his eyes seemed glassy and absent.

The name ‘ _Tanabe Groceries_ ‘ was plastered across the side of the truck and on its bonnet.

“Sumire?!”

Akira’s attention snapped to the sight ahead of him. The girl with long red hair stood paralysed in the middle of the road. Her sister had crossed alongside the other pedestrians but dashed back into the road to her sister’s aid.

Akira’s legs were in motion before he could even urge them to act.

He watched as the auburn-haired girl dived towards her sister, arms extended to push her out of harm’s way.

Akira stood between the twins and the oncoming truck and seized Sumire with an arm around her waist. He reached out for Kasumi, desperately grasping for a hand or a part of her clothing he could use to pull her out from harm’s way.

Pedestrians cried out with screams of panic and frenzy.

Akira felt a devastating pain on his right side. He reeled from the collision and fell backwards, collapsing onto his back, still holding onto Sumire with a protective grip.

His consciousness flickered and vision waned. Akira’s eyelids felt heavy, but he recognised the truck a short distance away. The front bumper had buckled from a crash into a nearby tree and the windshield was cracked.

Sparse cherry blossom petals drifted to the surface of the road.

Akira tasted blood in his mouth. The rainwater surrounding him was tinted red.

He strained desperately to keep his eyes open, but to no avail.

All he saw was black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I plan to continue this story so if you're keen to read on please sit tight while I work on future chapters. Please leave me some feedback as well!
> 
> A few writer's notes:  
> \- The introduction covers a lot of well-travelled ground (Akira's arrival at Yongen-jaya, his meeting with Sojiro Sakura, etc.) but I'm generally planning on avoiding a straight one-to-one copy of the game's events where possible. If you're reading this story than you've almost certainly played the game: I don't want to bore you retelling events you've already seen.
> 
> \- I wasn't sure what the popular consensus was regarding the protagonist's name: whether Ren Amamiya or Akira Kurusu was preferred. I opted for Akira Kurusu simply because I prefer how it sounds, but I'm still interested by the meaning behind the kanji of Ren's name.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira regains consciousness at a hospital in Shibuya. Sumire Yoshizawa tackles with the outcome of the accident. Sae Niijima investigates her suspicions of a string of related accidents, alongside one high-school detective.

Amidst the darkness of his unconscious, one image persisted in the mind of Akira Kurusu: the silky, pink and white petals of a cherry blossom speckled with bright red blood.

The image flickered to black, and the deafening silence was replaced with a pair of shouts. The aggressive yelling bounced around his head like a wasp trapped in a bottle. The shouts grew louder, more intense, more aggressive. Then silence once more.

Then, the hazy image of rainfall. He heard people crying out, but unlike the shouting from before the sound was muffled and muted.

_…call a… bulance, quic…_

The vicious sequence cycled in his mind. Silent cherry blossoms, coherent shouting amidst the darkness, rainfall. The cognitions plagued Akira for four days, until at last, his aching body roused itself from its slumber.

His eyelids were still heavy and his vision blurred. The sound in his ears was still muffled, as if he were floating beneath the surface of water, but the rhythmic beeping of hospital equipment slowly pierced the bubble of sound in his head.

Akira strained his head to the left, his stiff neck creaking with the motion. He traced the clear tube from his wrist to an IV drip half-full of sedatives. On the bedside table, he spotted his glasses. The plastic frame had snapped into several pieces: one lens was cracked, whereas the other was missing entirely, having escaped the broken plastic rim.

To his right, he heard the door to his room open.

A doctor in a long white lab coat pushed open the door. His expression was natural, until he recognised the flickering of Akira’s eyelids. He rapped his knuckles on the window to alert one of the nearby nurses before adjusting his lab coat and picking up the clipboard from the end of the bed.

“Kurusu-kun, can you hear me? Are you there Kurusu-kun?”

His mind throbbed with painful vibrations and his throat felt as coarse as sandpaper, but he managed to collect his thoughts.

“I… Yes. Where…?”

The doctor interrupted him with a reassuring hand gesture.

“Try not to speak Kurusu-kun. You were badly injured, and you’ve been asleep for several days. We’ll call your guardian and let him know that you’re awake, focus on recovering your strength in the meantime.”

Akira tried to nod, but the stiffness in his neck and a sharp pain from his clavicle limited any movement. He simply mustered a grunt of affirmation.

A short nurse entered the room, pulling a wheeled stand with a fresh IV drip behind her. She diligently attached the tubes to Akira’s veins and placed a dull-looking pump in his left hand.

“If you feel any severe or debilitating pain, squeeze the pump for an analgesic. It should offer quick relief but try to save it for when you really need it. Okay?”

As time marched on at a slow and sombre pace, Akira steadily regained more and more of his senses. The pain in his right side began to dull from the painkillers, and both his sight and hearing became more controlled.

It took only thirty minutes after he received the call for Sojiro Sakura to close shop and arrive at Shibuya General Hospital.

Donned in his trademark white jacket and pink shirt, Sojiro rushed into the patient’s room. He hung his hat by the door and pulled up a seat beside Akira’s bed.

“I thought I told you not to do anything stupid…” he mustered. “You wouldn’t believe the worry I went through when I checked in on you that evening only to find the place empty. At first, I figured you were asleep, but I called the phone on the counter and…”

Sojiro trailed off. He shifted his focus to the window, avoiding Akira’s eyeline.

“I’m just glad you’re alive, kid. You gave me one hell of a scare.”

Akira mustered a pained smile.

The doctor returned to his room once more, offering a quick nod to Sojiro before returning the clipboard to the end of Akira’s bed frame.

“How are you feeling Kurusu-kun?”

“Better.” Akira said through his strained throat. Sojiro handed him a plastic cup of water which he gratefully accepted. With slow movements, he shuffled up the bedframe to sit more upright, despite the protests of the doctor.

“Don’t move around too much Kurusu-kun, I’ve briefed Sakura-san on your condition, but you should avoid any strenuous activity or overexertion while you remain with us here.”

The doctor pulled up a chair on the opposite side of Sojiro.

“Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Dr. Nakagawa. I’ve been monitoring your condition since you were admitted four days ago.”

“I’ve been asleep… for that long?”

“Indeed, and truth be told, we weren’t sure when we could expect you to wake.” Dr. Nakagawa mused. He pulled a scan from the wall beside Akira’s bed and handed it to him.

Akira seized the scan with wavering hands: an x-ray.

“You were caught up in a car accident near Shibuya Crossing; a truck driver collided into you at high speed before swerving from the road and crashing on the pavement.”

Dr. Nakagawa gestured to the upper torso in the x-ray with a pen.

“The impact left you with fractures to your right clavicle, scapula and pelvis. Your right arm was also broken just below the elbow, and you suffered several broken ribs. To top it off, the fall left you with a mild concussion and some bruising, hence any stiffness you may feel around your neck or jaw.”

Akira grimaced as Dr. Nakagawa listed the injuries.

“And the good news?” he jested.

Dr. Nakagawa struggled to restrain a chuckle in the face of the boy’s optimism.

“The good news is that with enough bedrest, you shouldn’t see any permanent damage. Truthfully, you could have fared much worse, but from what I can tell you were only clipped by the truck on your right side. If you’d been hit by a full-on impact, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now. If only everyone from this horrific accident had your good fortune.”

Nakagawa’s musing sent an icy chill down Akira’s spine. His throat hitched and the pain in his right side flared up. He pressed down on the pump heavily.

“There were two girls… Sisters…” Akira strained.

Dr. Nakagawa’s expression turned dour.

“There were.” He swallowed heavily. “And while I cannot breach doctor-patient confidentiality, Mr. Yoshizawa came by to visit you while you were asleep a number of times, so I can share some brief information about their condition.”

Akira waited hesitantly, bracing himself for Dr. Nakagawa’s revelation.

“Kasumi Yoshizawa and Sumire Yoshizawa were both admitted here as well. Sumire Yoshizawa suffered some mild injuries and a concussion. From what I hear, her injuries would be much more severe if it weren’t for your heroics.”

Akira relaxed some of the tension in his body, but he withheld his sigh of relief.

“And… Kasumi?”

Dr. Nakagawa’s eyes fell to the floor.

“Kasumi Yoshizawa leapt in front of the truck to push her sister out of harm’s way. According to eyewitness accounts, your combined effort could very well have saved Sumire’s life.”

Dr. Nakagawa paused a moment to process his words.

“While you were able to grasp Kasumi’s wrist and pull her towards the pavement, the truck still made impact with her lower body. Both of her legs were broken in numerous places and she suffered a severe fracture near her pelvis. She’s still asleep, so we’ve not had the chance to confirm with her, but we’re uncertain if she’ll be able to walk once she regains consciousness.”

Akira maintained a silent, stone-faced expression. For a moment he had feared for Kasumi’s life, but her condition was still a cruel outcome.

“Thank you for letting me know, doctor…”

“Of course. I’ll give you time to rest up and catch-up with Sakura-san. If you need anything you can alert myself or one of the nurses with the yellow button on the remote.”

Dr. Nakagawa picked himself up and straightened his lab coat. He exited the room.

Sojiro placed Akira’s suitcase on a chair beside his bed.

“I came by a few days ago to wash your old clothes. Figured I’d bring some things for you to keep you occupied while you’re stuck in here.”

Akira rummaged through the suitcase: fresh changes of clothes; a few unfamiliar books he presumed Sojiro had pulled from the counter at Leblanc; his mobile phone, intact but with a coarse edge on the corner and his treasured wireless earbuds.

“You’re a lifesaver Sojiro, thank you.”

Sojiro rubbed his forehead and temple with his hand.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to call someone else a _lifesaver_ , kid. There are better ways to win over a girl than throwing yourself in front of a truck for her y’know.”

“Don’t worry, won’t happen again.” Akira smirked.

“I should hope not!” Sojiro guffawed, scribbling on a torn scrap of paper. “Give the café a call if you need anything, or if it’s after hours you can call my cell.”

Sojiro extended the scrap of paper with his phone number, which Akira graciously accepted.

“I expected you to say, ‘Normally I only hand my number out to women’ or something to that effect.”

“You’re not wrong.” Sojiro snarked.

“Well I’ll consider myself lucky.” Akira smirked. “All it took to win you over was throwing myself in front of a truck, eh?”

Sojiro conceded.

“Very funny kid. This time you’ll get my number, but pull this stunt again and you’ll get one hell of a scolding instead, got it?”

Akira raised his left arm halfway for a sarcastic salute.

“Loud and clear.”

* * *

Akira laid wearily in the hospital bed, comforted by the soft duvet and the melody in his earbuds. His arm throbbed with a dull, but controlled pain which he carefully nurtured with sporadic use of the analgesic pump. Visiting hours had passed, and both his room and the adjacent corridor were as quiet as the night outside the hospital.

So Akira was surprised when he heard a muffled knock on the door, followed by a pause. With the curtain closed, it was impossible to tell who was waiting on the other side, but he would have expected a nurse or doctor to enter without the need for confirmation. He carefully removed his earbuds and placed them on the bedside table.

“Hello?” Akira called out with a strained voice.

The door was gently pushed ajar. Slowly it opened wider, and Akira watched a timid footfall pass through the doorframe.

She was dressed in a dreary white and blue hospital gown that matched his own, but the girl’s long red hair struck a vibrant contrast. Her bandaged left arm was held up by a sling in front of her stomach, while her right hand fidgeted with loose strands of hair.

The girl had barely entered the room, but Akira could sense her nerves. He pulled himself upright once more with a muffled grunt of discomfort.

“You must be Yoshizawa-san.”

She hesitated, but slowly closed the door behind her and sat beside Akira’s bed.

“Y- yes. My name is… Sumire. Sumire Yoshizawa.”

Akira smiled earnestly.

“It’s nice to meet you.”

Sumire said nothing. The girl’s teary eyes remained fixed to the floor, an unmistakable look of guilt racked her face.

“Kurusu-senpai. I- I’m so, _so_ sorry. This is all my fault. Because of me, you were seriously hurt. And K-Kasumi…”

Her voice hitched as a stray tear fell free from her cheek. Akira felt powerless, desperately searching for the words that could ease the girl’s pain.

“Please don’t cry, Sumire. I probably look like a mess, but Dr. Nakagawa has assured me that I’ll make a full recovery. I’m just glad to see that you’re okay.”

“But-!” Sumire protested. “You don’t even know me. I was a complete stranger to you, but you still risked your life to help me. Both you and Kasumi were seriously hurt, all because I tried to run away from my fears.”

Sumire’s meaning was lost on Akira, but he didn’t interrupt. Sumire sobbed quietly with heavy breaths. She raised a shaking hand to her face and wiped the stream of tears from her cheek, nudging the frames of her foggy glasses.

“If I’d just died on that stupid road, neither of you would have been harmed for my sake. It’s not like anyone would miss Sumire Yoshizawa… We both do gymnastics, but people only care for Kasumi. They only want to see _Kasumi_. But now I’ve taken that away from her too!”

Akira couldn’t accept that.

“The day of the accident, I met your father.”

Sumire’s eyes darted to Akira with a look of surprise, still wet with tears.

“S-Senpai?”

“I had just moved to Tokyo and I started working at a café run by my guardian here. It’s a sleepy little place in the backstreets of Yongen-jaya, but it’s got a cozy atmosphere. We chatted about ordinary things: work, life, but the moment his face lit up with the most joy and enthusiasm was when he spoke of his daughters.”

Sumire sniffled but said nothing. She stared at Akira with unwavering focus.

“I still remember what he said.” Akira mused. “He said, ‘Perhaps I should bring them here next time I visit. Kasumi has a taste for coffee… while Sumire is a natural cook.’”

Sumire ran a finger beneath her eyes once more, drying the dampness around her eyes.

“Not once did he praise the merits of one sister without recognising the other. ‘Kasumi is a hard worker; Sumire has a natural grace; Kasumi has a wonderful, upbeat personality; Sumire is a sincere, caring girl.’ Your father cares for both of you deeply, both Kasumi _and_ Sumire.”

Sumire sat in silence as Akira’s words hung in the room. Eventually she responded, but not with words. She cried a deluge of tears once more.

Akira simmered with frustration, unsure how to handle the emotional young girl by his side.

_I’ve only made things worse… I should just try to comfort her._

“Why…?” Sumire sobbed.

Akira tilted his head, lost on how best to respond.

“I don’t know you… I’m responsible for getting you hurt, and still… You’re still so kind to me… I don’t understand why?”

For the first time in their conversation, Akira’s words did not evade him.

“Because you’re deserving of kindness, Sumire. Don’t ever forget that.”

Sumire froze. She sniffled and wiped away her tears once more as a gentle blush appeared on her cheeks.

She took a deep breath, tilted her head ever so slightly, and offered a beautiful, sincere smile.

“Kurusu-senpai. T- thank you.”

That was the first night Akira slept soundly since the accident.

* * *

The following morning, Akira stirred from his restful slumber. The ever-present ache beneath his skin throbbed but adjusting himself in the hospital bed became more and more possible without severe pain or discomfort.

Akira turned onto his left-hand side. The young boy very nearly fell from the bed in surprise when he noticed Sumire still sitting by the chair, peacefully sleeping with her head resting on a spare pillow.

The door opened behind him.

Dr. Nakagawa entered the room, bringing his trademark calming presence with him. He seized the clipboard by the end of Akira’s bedframe.

“Good morning Kurusu-kun. How are you feeling today?” Dr. Nakagawa smiled.

Akira sat upright once more.

“I’m well.” Akira nodded. “The pain is becoming much more manageable.”

“That’s fantastic news.” he said as the doctor jotted down some notes on the clipboard. “I’ll speak with your nurse; hopefully, we can give you some time to walk around outside and get some fresh air.”

Akira smiled, unable to hide his relief. He’d been reluctant to admit it thanks to the hard work of Dr. Nakagawa and the nurses, but Akira was struggling to ignore the escalating feeling of cabin fever. The possibility of a breath of fresh air was a welcome respite.

“I hope you don’t mind by the way.” Dr. Nakagawa mused, gesturing to the slumbering Sumire. “Her nurse said she’d been restless ever since she heard you’d woken up and insisted on coming to see you. I think she felt responsible for your injuries, poor girl.”

“Not at all. I just wish I could do more to help her.”

Dr. Nakagawa chuckled.

“Trust me, Kurusu-kun. You’ve done more than enough. We’ve got connections to many talented counsellors and therapists; we’ll be sure that both Yoshizawa sisters receive all the support they need. The same goes for you: if you’d benefit from meeting with someone, we can make the necessary arrangements.”

“If it’s okay, I’ll give it some thought and let you know.” Akira pondered.

“Of course, just say the word.”

Dr. Nakagawa returned the clipboard and made for the exit.

He stopped in the doorframe.

“Oh, that reminds me. We had some visitors from the Special Investigations Unit. They seemed keen to hear from yourself and the Yoshizawa twins about the incident. I thought it best to give you time to recover, as you’d only just roused from your slumber, but-”

“It’s okay.” Akira interrupted. “I know I’m far from 100%, but if it helps them figure out how all of this happened, I’ll speak with them.”

Dr. Nakagawa gave a curious expression: as if he disapproved of Akira’s decision from the position of a caregiver but admired the boy’s tenacity.

“You’re a good kid, Kurusu-kun. Perhaps too good for your own good. I’ll give them a call. Their investigation seemed pressing, so don’t be surprised if they plan to drop by this afternoon.”

Dr. Nakagawa waved, and slowly closed the door behind him.

Akira rolled over to his right side, watching Sumire sleep contently. A thought struck him.

Akira pulled himself to the edge of the bed and reached below the frame. His hands found purchase on a pile of spare sheets and blankets.

He pulled out a blanket and slowly sat on the edge of the bed. He unfurled the soft fabric and reached over to Sumire, draping the blanket over her. The girl murmured quietly and jostled her head, still snoozing undisturbed.

Pleased with his handiwork, and that his intervention had not interrupted the girl’s rest, he laid out on his bed once more.

* * *

Only two hours had passed when a flurry of knocks graced the door to Akira’s hospital room. A tall woman dressed in a smart business suit and black heels stepped into the room. Trailing just behind was a younger boy wearing a tan coat and black trousers. Akira watched as the boy ran a gloved hand past his hair, brushing a stray lock to the side.

The smart woman walked with purpose to a chair beside Akira’s bed, opposite Sumire who was still sound asleep beneath the blanket. She placed a briefcase on the floor.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with us, Kurusu-kun. My name is Sae Niijima and this is Goro Akechi, I’ve been investigating a series of unusual incidents that have been occurring throughout Tokyo over the last few months and I suspect the incident you were caught up in bears some relation to that investigation.”

“I see.” Akira nodded. “I didn’t realise the SIU employed students,” he jested, striking a playful smile towards Akechi.

“I merely offer assistance to Niijima-san when I have some insight to offer.” Akechi retorted. “Though others may treat me like some ‘idol detective’, I’m afraid I’m just a high-school student with a strong sense of justice.”

“Well, your reputation proceeds you. I look forward to speaking with you.” Akira smiled.

Sae was less amused, carefully disguising her impatience.

“If we could get back to the reason why we’re here…” she mumbled, “I know that everything happened very quickly, but we wanted to hear an account from both you and the Yoshizawa sisters. Anything that seemed unusual or stood out to you could be an important clue.”

As if on cue, Sumire shifted and turned beneath the blanket. She raised a weary hand to her mouth to cover her yawn as her eyelids flickered open.

“Nice of you to join us, Yoshizawa-san.” Akira teased.

As Sumire’s mind rebooted and she brushed her tired eyes hazily, she turned to Akira on her right, then Sae and Goro on her left.

Then she looked down and around herself, identifying the pillow behind her head and the unfamiliar blanket draped over her.

As she processed the information, Sumire’s face burst into bright red and she stuttered with embarrassment.

“I- I, t-this isn’t! It’s n-not!”

The flustered redhead retreated into the fabric of the blanket hiding herself from the several pairs of eyes on her.

Niijima sighed.

“Perhaps this would be more effective if we discussed things one-on-one? Akechi-kun, would you take Yoshizawa-san to her room and gather her account of the incident?”

“Of course, Niijima-san. Would that be agreeable Yoshizawa-san?”

Sumire nodded fiercely, but it was difficult to tell hidden beneath the blanket. She fled from the room with Akechi following close behind. He closed the door behind him with a click.

“Now,” mused Sae, pleased to have attained some semblance of control, “please tell me everything and anything you remember about the incident on March 15th. Don’t exclude any detail, no matter how insignificant it may seem.

Sae sat on the chair with one leg curled over the other. She held a notepad and pen, patiently waiting for Akira’s account.

Akira racked his mind for a moment, replaying the memories he had in his head. The conversation with Shinichi Yoshizawa, the trip to Shibuya, running across rainy pavements with a bag of coffee beneath his jacket, and then…

“I was in Shibuya running an errand. I was heading back to the station to return home, but I’d been caught in the rain. It must have been some time around six, but I can’t be certain.”

Sae nodded intently, diligently making notes.

“I remember waiting by the crossing, listening to all of the people nearby. That’s when I noticed Sumire and Kasumi. I’d met their father earlier in the day by sheer coincidence and the girls have quite a distinct look, so they made an impression on me. They started to cross the road, but that’s when I noticed the truck.”

“Did anything stand out to you about the truck? Or was there anything that seemed off?” Sae inquired.

“It was a delivery truck, I think, for food and produce. The driver was speeding incredibly quickly but showed no sign of slowing down. And it seemed like…”

Akira trailed off in uncertainty, but Sae probed him.

“Like I said, don’t exclude anything. Don’t worry if it seems unimportant.”

Akira nodded.

“The driver… I can’t be certain, but it looked like he was frozen in place. He was hunched over the steering wheel and looked stiff, like he was in some kind of stupor.”

Sae kept her eyes fixed on Akira, her pen in full motion scribbling on the notepad.

“That’s about as much as I remember. After that, all I could think to do was pull Sumire and Kasumi out of the way.”

“I see,” Sae affirmed. “The truck driver was dead when we arrived at the scene of the incident, but we’ve struggled to ascertain whether he died in the crash following your collision or whether he was already dead behind the wheel. Your testimony could be a vital clue. Thank you Kurusu-kun.”

“Happy to help, Niijima-san.” Akira smiled.

“Is there anything else you remember?”

Akira pondered for a moment but shook his head.

“I’m sorry, nothing else stands out.”

“I understand. Allow me to apologise once more for bothering you while you’re still recovering. These incidents have riled the public and concern is rising, so finding the truth behind these incidents is a matter of urgency.”

Sae Niijima reached into her pocket and handed Akira a plain business card.

“If you remember anything or realise something that might be important, please don’t hesitate to call.”

“I will, Niijima-san. Thank you.”

* * *

Akechi leaned back in the flimsy hospital chair and tapped the end of his pen against his lips. The page on his notepad was sparse with notes.

“I see, so you don’t remember anything from the incident?”

Sumire shook her head with guilt. Her uninjured hand rested on her lap and her eyes remained fixed to the ground.

“I’m sorry… All I remember was the glare of the headlights and then… Kasumi…”

Sumire sniffled to restrain the tears that threatened to fall loose from her eyes. Akechi did not press her further.

“That is… unfortunate. No matter, thank you for your time Yoshizawa-san.”

Akechi tightened his gloves and stood up from the chair. He stepped towards the door.

“Yoshizawa-san?”

Sumire looked up, patiently waiting on Akechi with red eyes.

The young detective bowed deeply.

“I’m truly sorry for what happened to you and Kasumi. I pray you both make a swift recovery.”

Sumire said nothing, she simply nodded and brought a hand to dry her cheek.

Noticing Sae Niijima approaching from down the corridor through the window, Akechi exited the room and closed the door behind him.

“Well?” Sae said expectantly.

“I’m afraid Yoshizawa-san’s memory of the incident is fragmented. Further, it would seem that Kasumi Yoshizawa has not yet woken up since the accident.”

Sae looked to the side with a disappointed expression.

“Perhaps you had more luck with Kurusu-san?” Akechi continued.

“Thankfully, I did. He claims the driver appeared catatonic behind the wheel: his arms were stiff, and he had a vacant expression. The notion that Jun Makino was already dead behind the wheel is becoming a very real possibility.” Sae pondered.

“How very interesting.” Akechi thought, raising a finger to his chin. “That would certainly suggest a correlation.”

Sae affirmed with determination.

“I’m sure of it, without a doubt. This is another mental shutdown case.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please don't hesitate to leave a comment if you have any feedback or critique.
> 
> A few notes:  
> \- I'm not a healthcare professional, so there may be some inaccuracies with the duration of injuries, etc. Sorry if this is the case!  
> \- I wanted to include a quick scene with Shinichi, but I think I ought to save it for the next chapter, so look forward to that I guess.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira receives a visitor. The Yoshizawa twins commemorate their birthday. A counsellor visits those harmed in the accident.

The next week progressed at a slow crawl. Dr. Nakagawa urged Akira to incorporate minor physical activity into his daily routine, at least as much as he could manage without overexerting himself. While Akira’s injuries did not warrant a stringent rehabilitation, his right arm was still bound to a cast and sling, and the right-hand side of his body felt weak.

Despite her embarrassment in front of Niijima-san and Akechi-kun, Sumire visited Akira frequently. Sumire’s injuries had healed quickly, but the hospital allowed her to stay with respect to the uncertainty of Kasumi’s condition.

“She seemed better today.” Sumire mused, stroking a lock of hair. Her left arm had been freed from its sling, but she still wore a bandage to help ensure she didn’t disrupt the healing process. She sat cross-legged at the end of Akira’s hospital bed.

“Kasumi’s still sleeping, but the nurse says her pulse is getting stronger and more regular. They think it’s because of her gymnastic training, we have to do a lot of cardiovascular conditioning for our routines.”

Akira smiled, thinking back to the timid young girl who’d tip-toed into his room merely a few days ago. The difference in Sumire’s temperament was night and day: though he could still sense her feelings of guilt and anxiety, her outlook seemed much brighter than it had been when they’d first met in earnest.

“That’s great news. What about you? How have you been feeling?”

“M-me?” Sumire stammered, “Uh, well… Truth be told. I don’t know.”

Sumire looked away with a sombre stare. Akira felt a pit in his stomach.

“I’m sorry Yoshizawa-san, I didn’t mean to bring you down.”

“N-no! Please don’t worry Kurusu-senpai. It’s enough to know that you care about my wellbeing. I think that’s why I find it so easy to talk to you.”

Sumire twirled her hair around a finger absentmindedly.

“Spending the last few days here… without Kasumi… it made me realise how much I rely on her. It was always frustrating to see how much people adored Kasumi; how much they idolised her. But the fact is, I’m no different. She’s such a central part of my life.”

Sumire raised her head. She locked eyes with Akira once more.

“That’s why… I wanted to ask you, Kurusu-senpai. Will you… b-be my friend?”

“You don’t need to ask Sumire. We’re already friends.”

“Wha…?”

Sumire leaned back startled. Slowly her features relaxed and she let out a sigh of relief.

“W-we are…? T-that makes me happy.”

Sumire was startled once more.

“Ah! But there’s so much I don’t know about you! Like where you go to school, or what hobbies you have, or-“

There was a knock on the door. The doorknob twisted, revealing a man familiar to both Akira and Sumire.

Shinichi Yoshizawa stepped into the room. He carried a large brown paper bag in his hand. 

“Dad…? I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.” inquired Sumire in astonishment.

“I’ll still be here tomorrow, but my colleagues at the studio insisted I take the day off. Today’s show is a quiet one, so I thought I’d surprise you. But it turns out you were the one to surprise me when I didn’t find you in your room.”

Sumire looked around the room bashfully, avoiding her father’s teasing gaze.

“Uh! I just-“

Shinichi chuckled.

“Relax Sumire. I also wanted to talk to Kurusu-kun. Would you mind giving us a few minutes?”

Sumire stood up from the bed with a respectful bow.

“Of course, I’ll go and check on Kasumi!”

The redhead hurried out of the room.

Akira giggled to himself.

“Sumire gets embarrassed quite easily, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, quite.” Shinichi nodded with an earnest smile. “It’s one of her many charms.”

Shinichi pulled a nearby chair to Akira’s bedside and sat down. Akira had measured Shinichi as a relatively open individual, but he could tell the TV director was weary. The last week had been trialling for him, no doubt.

“I’d hoped that the next time we’d met, it would have been at Leblanc over a lovely cup of coffee. I never would have dreamed that such a tragedy could occur. Kurusu-kun. I wanted to personally thank you for what you’ve done for my family.”

“I only wish I could’ve avoided this incident altogether. I… I heard about Kasumi’s injuries. I hope more than anything that she’ll be able to continue gymnastics.”

Shinichi wrings his hands in his lap.

“It would devastate Kasumi and Sumire both. They share a dream of becoming renowned gymnasts. Ever since they were kids, they were determined to reach the top together. That mutual drive motivates them in everything they do.”

The twins’ father slowly shakes his head, matching Akira’s eyeline once more.

“But regardless of how Kasumi’s condition will develop, she’s alive. For that, I will always be indebted to you. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, you need only say the word.”

“That’s very kind of you Yoshizawa-san. Thank you.”

Shinichi peered towards the door.

“That’s not all I need to thank you for, actually. The last week has been difficult on all of us, but recently Sumire hadn’t been acting herself. Her and Kasumi are usually inseparable, but Sumire was comparing her performances to Kasumi’s and feeling more and more upset. Her coach has put me through endless interrogation to try and figure out what caused such a change in her demeanour.”

“What do you think her reason was?” Akira inquired.

“Put simply,” Shinichi frowned, “I think she was lonely. Sumire felt like she was falling behind Kasumi, so all of a sudden, she couldn’t confide in her closest partner. On top of that, Sumire’s a shy girl: she struggles with making new friends, and I fear her reputation at school left her isolated.”

Akira nodded with a sombre expression. Shinichi’s assessment made perfect sense considering his own conversation with Sumire just moments ago.

“But recently she’s been enamoured by you. Your conversations have kept her spirits up in the face of Kasumi’s tragedy; she mentions you every time I visit.”

It was Akira’s turn to conceal a blush. He sheepishly held a hand in front his face and feigned an adjustment of his glasses, only to realise they still laid broken on the side table. He transitioned to a scratch of the nose.

_Smooth as always Akira._

“I’m just glad there’s something I can do to help.”

“I hope you continue to share your friendship with my daughters.” Shinichi nodded. “They both have their quirks and no doubt they can be a handful at times, but they won’t betray the trust and care you’ve shown them.”

Akira could sense the immense love Shinichi had for his daughters. It was impossible to disguise the warm smile on his face.

“Well I suppose it’s about time I dispel your curiosity, hm?” Shinichi teased. “This is for you.”

The middle-aged man hauled the large brown paper bag up onto the bed in front of Akira. He urged him to peer inside with a smirk.

Akira pulled the bag towards him. He reached inside to find a stylish, charcoal trench coat; pairs of buttons lined the front side and the back of the coat had a slick, ventless finish.

The young teenager stared at the apparel in awe. The tailored coat exuded quality: no doubt the gift had been expensive.

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you, Yoshizawa-san.”

“You can thank my wife.” Shinichi chuckled. “I don’t have much of a knack for gift-giving admittedly, but she insisted that a ‘fine young man should have a fine coat to complement’, I hope it’s to your liking. Let me know if the size is off and I’ll take care of any adjustments.”

Shinichi stood up from the chair.

“Anyway, I’ve taken enough of your time; I’ll leave you to recuperate your strength. I’ll be here tomorrow, as I’m sure you could have guessed, so I hope we’ll have the chance to talk again.”

Shinichi Yoshizawa bid his farewell with a wave, leaving Akira alone in his room once more.

Akira inspected the stylish coat in admiration once more. His eyes piqued with interest as he spotted something hidden in one of the inside pockets. After a quick rummage, Akira found an envelope.

He curiously pulled back the unsealed envelope revealing a VIP pass for the Japanese Broadcasting Studio in Shibuya, clipped to a branded lanyard. A hand-written note accompanied the pass.

“If you ever want to see how a live TV show is recorded, you’re always welcome as our special guest.” Akira read aloud.

He slipped the pass back into the pocket and carefully draped the coat over the back of a nearby seat. His body still ached from the physical injuries, but his chest buzzed with a warm feeling of contentment.

* * *

The rest of Akira’s day was uneventful. Sumire did not return to his room, most likely spending the time with her father and Kasumi. Deprived of his newfound conversation partner, Akira opted for a peaceful afternoon with some of the books Sojiro had shared with him.

Akira thumbed through a ‘Yoncha Walker’, a glossy tourism magazine with snippets and columns about various hotspots around Yongen-jaya. He chuckled when he noticed the front entrance to a familiar café, realising that Sojiro only possessed the magazine because it featured his beloved Leblanc.

As he closed the final page and his distraction came to an end, Akira’s thoughts returned to his mind. Something didn’t sit right with him.

 _“I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”_ Sumire had pondered.

“ _I’ll be here tomorrow, as I’m sure you could have guessed,”_ Shinichi had mentioned.

Akira checked the date on his phone, still wrestling with the riddle.

 _March 24 th_.

It hit him like a sack of bricks.

Akira quickly put on some baggy jeans and his old coat to disguise the hospital attire. He limped out of the hospital’s front entrance, simultaneously searching for gift ideas and nearby shops on his phone.

He only got a few metres from the front entrance before he recognised a voice behind him.

“Kurusu-kun! Where do you think you’re going?!”

The short nurse who had been supervising his recovery alongside Dr. Nakagawa flanked him from behind. She wore a tense expression.

“Uemura-san, I-“

“Your injuries haven’t healed enough for you to wander Shibuya in the evening on your lonesome. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to return to your room.”

“I need to get a present for someone, it can’t wait until tomorrow. Can you please make an exception?” Akira pleaded.

Nurse Uemura’s face flashed with sympathy, but her concern prevailed.

“I’m sorry Kurusu-kun, but it’ll have to wait until morning.”

Akira drooped in defeat. His mind searched desperately for a solution.

“Is it okay if I make a quick phone call then? It’ll only take a few minutes.”

Uemura-san nodded before stepping inside the hospital once more. Akira bowed with gratitude.

Akira reached into his pocket for a scrap of paper and punched the digits into his phone. There was a brief pause, until the deep voice of Sojiro Sakura responded on the other end.

“Kid? What’s wrong, did something happen?” Sojiro queried with some concern.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine.” Akira reassured. “But I need a favour. Sumire and Kasumi Yoshizawa’s birthdays are tomorrow, but I’ve not had the chance to get them anything.”

“That so? Sounds like you need someone to go fetch something for you, huh.”

Akira waited patiently. He could tell his request wasn’t lost on Sojiro.

“Alright, I suppose I’ll bail you out this once.”

Akira breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

“You’re a hero, Sakura-san. Thank you.”

“No worries, kid.” Sojiro replied. “Give me some guidance though, I need to know what these girls would like.”

Akira pondered, replaying his recent conversations with Sumire in his head.

“Well… Sumire is a bit shy and reserved, but she can get quite passionate when something grips her attention. She seems happiest when she can be relaxed and comfortable. As for Kasumi, I’ve got no idea. From what I’ve heard about her from Sumire and Shinichi Yoshizawa, she’s cheery and popular with everyone she meets. A real socialite, by the sound of it.”

“Hmm… Okay, I’ve got some ideas. But clarify something for me, kid. What do you _really_ think of these girls?”

“Huh?” Akira muttered in confusion.

“Aw hell. You really need me to say it? You looking for the kind of gift a friend would pick up, or do you want something more significant?”

“A-ah…” Akira stammered, Sojiro’s connotations finally making sense to him. “W-well, I-I’ve only spent time with Sumire, b-but…”

Akira trailed off. Sojiro chuckled with hearty laughter.

“Relax kid, I hear you loud and clear. I’ve got you covered; I’ll drop by this evening.”

“I owe you one Sakura-san. As soon as I’m discharged from the hospital, I’ll help out with whatever you need at Leblanc.”

“I’ll hold you to that. Catch you later.”

Sojiro signed off and the line cut out.

Akira pocketed his phone. He felt an impatient gaze on his back. Akira turned to see Nurse Uemura with her arms crossed, waiting for the boy to return to his hospital bed.

“Sorry Uemura-san, I’m all done now.”

Akira approached the hospital entrance once more.

The sound of hurried footsteps on vinyl flooring rang out, louder and louder.

Akira’s eyes widened as Sumire dashed around the corner, panting and out of breath.

“K-Kasumi… She’s awake!”

* * *

It was the first time Akira had seen the room Sumire and Kasumi were staying in.

Structurally, the room was a mirror image of his own, but its contents varied considerably. The curtains were drawn shut, and the room was dim with low lighting. Two hospital beds occupied each corner on the far side of the room: while one bed simply had a bedside table adjacent, the other bed was surrounded with heavy-duty hospital equipment.

Akira recognised the same vitals monitor and IV drip from when he himself was unconscious, in addition to other pieces of equipment that were unfamiliar to him.

Shinichi was already seated alongside Kasumi’s bed, holding her hand tightly in his own. The pale girl laid in the hospital bed with an oxygen mask strapped to her face and various tubes wired into her body. The only sounds to fill the room were a gentle breathing and the beeping of a cardiac monitor.

Sumire pulled up a seat next to Shinichi. Akira sat down a short distance away, hesitant to pose any interruption to the family.

“Su-Sumire…” Kasumi cried. “I-I’m so glad… you’re okay…”

Sumire added her hand to Shinichi’s, weeping with a quiet sincerity.

“Kasumi… I’m so sorry. I never wanted any of this. I-“

“Shhh…” Kasumi interrupted. “You know… I hate to see you… cry…”

Kasumi’s breath obscured the clear mask. Her eyelids wavered, still taking in the sight of the unfamiliar room.

She spotted Akira behind her family beneath the dim hospital lighting.

“I-is that our k-knight… in shining armour…?”

Akira pulled his chair a little closer. He hesitated, but Shinichi placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” Akira said, uttering the first thing to come to his mind.

Kasumi smiled softly.

Light briefly filled the room from the hospital corridor as Dr. Nakagawa delicately opened the door, clipboard in hand. He stood at the end of the bed.

“Yoshizawa-san, are you able to speak?”

“Y-yes…” Kasumi mustered.

“That’s good. My name is Dr. Nakagawa. I’ve been taking care of both you and your sister since you arrived here. You’ve been asleep for almost a week.”

“A whole… week? Coach Hiraguchi… won’t be pleased…”

Dr. Nakagawa’s tone stiffened; he addressed the room.

“We’ll need to run a quick test to gauge the degree of nerve damage Yoshizawa-san has suffered. Would you clear a space beside her bed?”

Shinichi nodded. He and Sumire sat on top of Sumire’s hospital bed, while Akira pulled the chairs away and stood with his back to the adjacent wall.

A nurse entered the room with a device in her hand, almost resembling a massage machine. She sat next to Kasumi’s bed, while Dr. Nakagawa maintained his position at the end of the bed.

“Okay, Yoshizawa-san. You should feel a machine impact your body, like a light push. I need you to confirm with me whenever you feel it. Understood?”

“Y-yes, doctor…” Kasumi responded.

The nurse enabled the device and gradually moved it down the front of her body. The device made a light impact to her waist. Dr. Nakagawa waited patiently for a response.

“Y-yes…” Kasumi nodded weakly.

Shinichi gripped Sumire’s hand tightly as the test continued. The device made impact with Kasumi’s left leg, then her right.

“Yoshizawa-san?” Dr. Nakagawa probed, disguising his anxious expression.

“I-I’m not sure… Can you try again?”

Dr. Nakagawa nodded, and the nurse repeated the process.

Silence lingered in the room.

“It feels like my legs are… covered in billions of blankets… but I… I think so.”

Dr. Nakagawa nodded slowly, scribing on the clipboard.

“Thank you, Kasumi. That should be all for now.”

He turned to Shinichi.

“Come with me, please.”

Shinichi Yoshizawa followed Dr. Nakagawa out of the room. Sumire stood up to follow but hesitated in the middle of the room.

Akira extended his hand.

Sumire paused, her cheeks damp with tears once more. She took Akira’s hand with a tentative grip, following him out of the room to join her father and Dr. Nakagawa.

They closed the door gently behind them. The two men were already engaged in conversation in the hallway.

“So, based on our previous scans and Kasumi’s responses…” Dr. Nakagawa surmised. “It seems as though the nerve damage to her legs isn’t permanent. After a period of rehabilitation, she should regain the ability to walk.”

A wave of relief washed over the three. Shinichi inquired further.

“And her gymnastics?”

“It will take some time, and the rehabilitation for that level of intense physical exertion will take several months, if not well over a year. But yes, she should be able to continue her gymnastics.”

Shinichi nodded, but kept his head hanging low. The news was enough to break his stoic demeanour. His body shuddered softly, and he quietly wept in the hospital corridor.

Sumire planted herself into her father’s side and hugged him tightly. The tears on her own face left a damp patch on the side of his jumper.

Akira gently brushed a hand over his face, catching one of his own tears before it fell to the floor of the hospital corridor.

* * *

Once Akira had returned to his own room, the last of the day’s sunlight had dipped below the Shibuyan cityscape. He stepped into the room, immediately noticing a pair of pink and red gift bags and two beautiful bouquets of flowers.

The first bouquet was filled with large, vibrant flowers of red, pink, and yellow, threatening to burst from the small flower vase that accompanied. The second bouquet featured smaller flowers, but no less beautiful: delicate petals of white and lilac sat amongst stunning violets. The bouquets were labelled ‘K’ and ‘S’ respectively.

Akira peered inside the supplementary gift bags, once again labelled with ‘K’ and ‘S’. One was filled with a humble assortment of vanity items: a stylish star-shaped mirror, some lipstick, and a hairbrush. The second featured only one gift: a long, woollen scarf dyed a bright red. At a glance, the design seemed handmade.

The teenager picked up a note stuck to the bedside table.

_Good luck, kid._

_-S_

Akira rubbed his brow in disbelief.

It staggered him that Sojiro Sakura was a bachelor.

* * *

That morning, it was Akira’s turn to knock on the door of the Yoshizawa sisters’ room.

“Kurusu-sen… whaaa?!” Sumire gasped in front of the wall of flowers in the door frame. Akira peered around the barricade of petals.

“I- uh… Happy Birthday?” Akira chuckled sheepishly.

The pair carefully arranged the flowers, bringing some much-needed levity to the atmosphere of the room. Kasumi was sound asleep, while Sumire and Akira sat cross-legged on either side of the redhead’s hospital bed.

Sumire reached into the gift bag. Her hands wrapped around the warm woollen scarf as she pulled it out of the bag. She rubbed the fabric against her face and furled it around her neck.

“Wow… It’s so soft. I feel like I could fall asleep just by wearing it. Thank you so much Senpai!”

“You like it? That’s a relief. It was a little short notice, so I was worried.” Akira confessed.

“I wasn’t expecting anything at all… But this is wonderful…”

The colour of her scarf matched the blush on Sumire’s cheeks.

“Thank you Senpai, I’ll treasure it.”

Akira smiled. He really did owe Sojiro, big time.

A quiet voice from across the room pulled the pair’s attention.

“Wooow… They’re so pretty. Are they for you Sumi…?”

Kasumi stared at the bouquet of flowers propped up on her bedside table with a look of awe.

“T-they’re for both of us, Kurusu-senpai brought them as a birthday present.”

“Is that so…?” Kasumi hummed with a smile. “You sure do know how to make a good first impression, Kurusu-senpai.”

“I hope they brighten your mood.” He responded earnestly. “I’ve got something else for you too.”

Akira handed the gift bag to Kasumi. She reached a weak hand inside.

“Oooh…” Kasumi purred as she turned the lipstick in her hand. “You’ve got interesting taste, Kurusu-senpai.”

A flustered Akira scratched the side of his face. He wasn’t sure if mentioning Sojiro’s influence would be wise.

“I uh, I had some help.” Akira confessed.

Kasumi giggled weakly, but her smile was warm.

“It’s very kind of you… Thank you Senpai.”

* * *

As March came to an end, Akira was finally feeling himself again. He had shed the cast on his right arm, and the only visible clue towards his injuries was a bandage around his arm. Akira walked the hospital corridors when a sight caught his eye.

The room adjacent to Akira’s had been unoccupied for as long as he could remember. But as he returned to his room, he noticed a man sitting patiently on a seat outside the neighbouring patient’s room. The man had black hair trimmed in a bowl-style haircut and wore a thick pair of glasses.

Akira’s curiosity got the better of him, but before he could speak, a hand fell to his shoulder.

He turned to see Dr. Nakagawa, who gestured towards Akira’s room. The boy followed obediently.

“I’d give the man some space.” The doctor began. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but you’ve got a good head on your shoulders Kurusu-kun so keep this to yourself. He came in late last night with a friend of his: a young artist who tried to take his own life. We’re still not sure if he’ll pull through.”

“I had no idea…” Akira ruminated.

“No doubt the lad outside is hurting and I fear he’s in a dark place mentally. I just didn’t want you to say anything that he might not take well. You ought to be careful what you say, you never know what might be going on in someone’s life.”

“That’s a wise lesson, doctor. I’ll be sure to take it to heart.”

“I suggest you do.” Nakagawa lectured. “But while I have you here, I suppose I’ve got some good news for you. Based on how your injuries have healed this past week, I think we’re ready to finally cut you loose. We’ll supply you with some painkillers and other medication to ensure you continue to heal, but you’ll be free to return home.”

Akira beamed with joy at the opportunity to return to the comfort of Leblanc.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done to help, doctor.” Akira praised.

“Don’t mention it Kurusu-kun. But before you leave, I wanted to let you know that Dr. Takuto Maruki is visiting Sumire today; he’s the counsellor I mentioned. I was wondering if you had given the thought of a counselling session any further consideration.”

“I have.” Akira mused. “If it’s not too short notice, I’d like to see him.”

“Of course, I have no doubt that Dr. Maruki will find the time. Sumire has a session scheduled for noon, so I’ll see if we can squeeze you in just afterwards.”

* * *

Sumire massaged her wrists with her fingertips as she stood in front of the door to room 5-C; the room assigned to her for her session with Dr. Maruki. She waited hesitantly in the corridor while nurses walked past absentmindedly, acting as if she weren’t there at all.

With her discharge from the hospital imminent, she wore a dark sweater and some comfortable gym clothes in place of the dull hospital gown. The red scarf she’d received from Akira was wrapped snugly around her neck, even though the temperature inside the hospital did not warrant such warm clothing.

The girl’s eyes shifted down the corridor. Both her own room and Akira’s were not far away; it would be easy to retreat to a place of comfort. But Sumire knew what her parents would say, how they would worry if she flaked on this session.

_It can’t do any harm… can it?_

With a shaky hand, she rapped her knuckles on the door.

“It’s open!” called a voice from inside.

She gently turned the doorknob.

The room was small, resembling a personal office. Bookshelves with advanced medical literature covered one side of the room, opposite a large window overlooking Shibuya. A young adult was seated at a nearby desk with a few objects on its surface; a metronome and a bowl of various snacks, both sweet and salty. He wore a white polo and jeans.

As Sumire stepped inside, the man turned to face her with a gentle smile.

“You must be Sumire Yoshizawa. My name is Dr. Maruki. Please, make yourself comfortable.”

Sumire tiptoed to the seat opposite Maruki and sat down stiffly. She placed her hands on her lap and stared at the surface of the table.

“First off…” Maruki began, “I wanted to thank you for coming to see me.”

“Yes… Thank you for seeing me.” Sumire responded dispassionately, still avoiding eye contact with Maruki. She gently wrung her hands together beneath the table.

“In these meetings, you can feel free to discuss anything you’d like.” Maruki continued. “We can chat until our time is up, or if you’d prefer, you can simply help yourself to some snacks.”

“I see… Thank you…” Sumire murmured. She idly adjusted a lock of hair.

Maruki gauged Sumire’s sombre silence carefully. He pondered for a moment.

The pause was unnerving to Sumire, she quickly stammered for a defense.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know what to talk about. My parents insisted I come today…”

“There’s no need to apologise, we can talk about anything at all. Let me think… Ah, I know. What’d you eat for lunch yesterday?”

“Hm?” Sumire reacted with surprise, but she offered nothing further.

“I’ll go first.” Maruki pressed on. “Just the other day, a friend of mine gave me a ton of apples. They were a lovely gift, but after eating nothing but apples, I thought to myself, why not try using them as an ingredient in a meal? Any guesses as to what I tried to make?”

“I… I have no idea…” Sumire sighed, reluctant to entertain Maruki’s ramblings.

“Shrimp in chili sauce – with apples.” He revealed with a chuckle. “You know how sweet-and-sour pork can have pineapple in it? I was going for something like that, but it didn’t quite hit the mark…”

“Sounds like it didn’t work out for you…” Sumire responded. “Apples can a pretty versatile ingredient; you can grate them and use them in a sauce, and a f-friend of mine says his guardian includes them in a curry.”

Sumire trailed off nervously, curling her hair around a fingertip once more.

“It’s… nutritious and good for digestion.”

“Wow, Yoshizawa-san, I’m impressed! You know a lot about cooking, and you care a lot about nutrition. You must be really on top of things.” Maruki praised.

Sumire looked away humbly, unaccustomed and put off by Maruki’s admiration.

“It’s nothing like that… I’m a gymnast so I just keep active is all…”

“Don’t sell yourself short Yoshizawa-san. There are plenty of people your age without that same level of consideration. You should be proud.” Maruki lauded, leaning back in his chair slightly with a gentle smile.

The young girl still retreated from his gaze.

“So… How do you find gymnastics?” he inquired.

“To be honest…? I don’t know…” Sumire said wistfully. “It’s been such a central part of my life, but the last time we went to practice, I left feeling exhausted. M-mentally, I mean.”

Maruki nodded with reassurance, recognising Sumire’s attempts to shed her insecurity around him.

“My… older sister and I made a promise. We’d both compete and win the biggest gymnastics awards in the world. We even transferred to a school nearby because of its reputation for renowned sports programmes. But with her injuries, she won’t be able to compete this year…”

Tears crept into the redhead’s eyes.

“If it weren’t for Kurusu-senpai. I might not even be alive… Or Kasumi could have died trying to protect me… I stole Kasumi’s dream away from her and got someone else seriously injured, all because I was too useless.”

Maruki brought a steady hand to his glasses. His role demanded a warm, benevolent expression, but Takuto Maruki had always been an emotional man. He dared not interrupt Sumire as she continued to pour her heart out.

“I sometimes think… what would Kasumi do if it were me in that hospital bed. And every time I think, _Kasumi would make her dream come true._ No matter how much I train or how often I compete, Kasumi is the only one strong enough to achieve her goals.”

Maruki looked out of the window in thought.

“Making your dreams come true, huh…”

He turned to Sumire once more.

“This may sound unexpected but wanting to become more like somebody you admire isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

Sumire looked at Dr. Maruki in surprise, meeting his eyeline for the first time in their session.

“I-it’s not…?”

“Think of it like this. If you try thought exercises like, “Would that person do that?” or, “How would that person handle this?” These sorts of thoughts can lead people to change themselves in ways that more closely mirror the target person. Sometimes a simple change of cognition can alter someone’s personality dramatically.”

Maruki’s expression grew more serious. He looked at Sumire with a focused determination.

“Is that what you want, Yoshizawa-san? Would you be happier if you could be more like Kasumi? If you _were_ Kasumi?”

Sumire stared wide-eyed at Dr. Maruki, the full extent of his meaning unknown to her. She pondered the question. Sumire saw memories of her gymnastics training with Kasumi and Coach Hiraguchi where Kasumi was lauded with praise; visions of their competitions where bright flags and banners were adorned with support for Kasumi; crowds of fans and friends alike, all there to encourage Kasumi.

She loved Kasumi; her sister meant the world to her. But as reluctant as she was to admit it, Sumire resented her. She was jealous of the unbridled love and adoration Kasumi enjoyed.

Sumire opened her mouth to give her answer to Dr. Maruki, but a voice rang out in her mind.

_“You’re deserving of kindness, Sumire. Don’t ever forget that.”_

Sumire bit her lip, guilty that she’d almost disregarded her experiences with Akira. She recalled the days they’d spent talking together, the bouquet of violets and lilies he’d given her for her birthday.

She raised a hand to the scarf wrapped around her neck, sinking into the warm fabric.

“For a time, I would have liked nothing more…” Sumire answered. “To have Kasumi’s cheery optimism, her incredible diligence, or her popularity. But recently I’ve found someone who recognises me as Sumire, not just as Kasumi’s sister. It would betray my friendship with them, the trust they’ve placed in me, if I tried to change who I am.”

Maruki was caught off guard by the answer, but he maintained his outward expression.

“Are you certain, Yoshizawa-san?” he queried.

“N-no…” Sumire confessed. “But it wouldn’t be right to try and be more like Kasumi. She’s never said it, but I think… she relies on me the same way I rely on her. I need to try and stand strong as Sumire, for her sake and for those who believe in me.”

“I see. You have an admirable sense of autonomy, Yoshizawa-san.” Maruki murmured. He masked the subtle concern in his voice. “Well, I hope our session has helped brighten your perspective. We can continue our meetings if you’d like, my role is to support you and your well-being after all.”

Sumire nodded, standing up from her seat.

“Thank you, Dr. Maruki.” said Sumire with a bow.

“Happy to help.” Maruki beamed.

Sumire opened the door to leave the room. Maruki watched as a flustered expression crept onto her face.

Akira Kurusu walked towards Sumire dressed in casual clothes. One hand rested in with his pockets with the other holding his phone, swiping through music to broadcast to his earbuds.

The boy recognised Sumire stepping out into the corridor. He removed an earbud and struck a smile.

“Yoshizawa-san! It’s good to see you.”

“K-Kurusu-senpai! Are you here to see Dr. Maruki as well?” Sumire stammered.

“Dr. Nakagawa said I should be ready to leave the hospital soon.” Akira nodded. “I figured a counselling session might help give some closure to the accident. How did your session with Dr. Maruki go?”

“Well… My parents insisted that I go, but it ended up giving me a new perspective that I hadn’t considered. So yeah, I guess it was helpful.”

Sumire heard footsteps behind as Dr. Maruki joined her by the door frame.

“Ah, you must be Akira Kurusu! Dr. Nakagawa mentioned you’d be stopping by. Sounds like you and Yoshizawa-san are already well-acquainted.”

Sumire felt a warmth in her cheeks. She hid her face behind her scarf with a bashful whimper.

“Senpai has been a g-good friend to me while we’ve been here at the hospital.” she mumbled.

“I see…” Dr. Maruki nodded with a degree of understanding. “Well, I look forward to our chat! Please, come on in.”

Maruki stepped aside to allow Akira entry. The boy gave a nod to Sumire.

“I’ll see you later, Yoshizawa-san.”

They traded places as Akira closed the door behind him, leaving Sumire alone in the corridor.

For a short moment, Sumire simply stood by the door, just as she had done so before her own session. She had no intention of eavesdropping on Akira’s session with Dr. Maruki, but she pondered what sort of discussions the two would have. Akira had always seemed so kind and supportive. And at the same time so confident…

But just like her, and so many others, there must have been thoughts that plagued his mind. Visions or phantoms that haunted him in the silence of his own mind.

Sumire ran her hands down the scarf with a tight grip.

“I-I want to be there for him…” she resolved to herself. “Just like he was for me.”

* * *

Akira sat down opposite Dr. Maruki and slipped his earbuds into his pocket. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something comforting about the atmosphere. Perhaps he was put at ease knowing that he sat where Sumire was just a moment ago.

Dr. Maruki began with his standard routine.

“It’s nice to meet you Kurusu-kun. Thanks for coming to see me. We can chat about anything you’d like, or if you’d prefer, you can just help yourself to some snacks.”

“Hm?” Akira said with surprise. “It feels like it goes against the point of a counselling session if I just sit here in silence and eat some snacks.”

Despite his comment, Akira reached for a packet of wafers as Maruki chuckled.

“Well I suppose you may have a point. Though, it’s not my place to force you to discuss a certain topic or subject if it’s not something you’re comfortable with. Perhaps we should start with something light? I noticed you wearing some wireless earbuds, what kind of music do you listen to?”

“Uh… Well…” Akira trailed off. “I suppose I listen to quite a few genres. Jazz, Blues, Rock. I’m not too picky about what I listen to, but I tend to listen to music quite often.”

“That’s interesting…” Maruki remarked. “There’s… someone I once knew. She and I were quite close. I remember she would always have some kind of music playing; it didn’t matter what it was, but whenever there was silence, she always insisted on filling it with music.”

Akira mulled the thought in his head. Truthfully, the habit reminded him of his own. He thought of memories he had in which he hadn’t been listening to music. Flashes of the accident in Shibuya filled his mind, as well as brief scenes from his childhood.

“People often associate music with moments or experiences in their life.” The doctor continued. “I’ve even heard of individuals with dementia or memory loss achieving moments of clarity by listening to music from their past. What does that make you think about?”

“I suppose I often associate events in which I’m not listening to music with negative connotations.” Akira speculated.

“Do you say that with an example in mind…?” Maruki spoke carefully, wary of broaching any topics that Akira was not comfortable to discuss.

“Well, the day of that accident in Shibuya it was raining really heavily. I couldn’t wear my earbuds, so I just listened to what people were saying all around me. That’s how I was able to pick up on Kasumi and Sumire.”

Akira’s expression turned bleak.

“To think… If I’d been listening to music and simply crossed the road straight away, things never would have ended how they did. Sumire or Kasumi could have…”

He trailed off. Maruki spoke with warm assurance.

“I know it can be difficult to avoid speculation and ‘what if’s’ after a traumatic event but try not to blame yourself for finding comfort in music. It’s okay to run away from things when it becomes too much to bear.”

“You think so?” Akira responded. He paused with speculation. “If you don’t mind my asking, Dr. Maruki… What have you run away from?”

A gloomy demeanour shrouded Maruki’s face, but he didn’t seem offended.

“Lots of things, admittedly… Confrontation, hardship, even ordinary day-to-day problems. But recently I… had a shift of mindset, shall we say. I decided that I would do everything in my power to make the people around me happy.”

“And what about you?” Akira probed. “Are you happy?”

“Me? Well, I like seeing the smiles of other people. That’s good enough for me.” Maruki answered with resolve.

“I see…”

Maruki chuckled to himself, bringing a hand to his mouth.

“For a second there it felt like you were the one counselling me. You certainly make for an interesting conversation partner Kurusu-kun. I can see why Sumire confides in you.”

Akira smiled, and stood from his seat. “That’s kind of you to say. You mind if I take one for the road?”

“Go right ahead. And if there’s anything else you ever want to discuss with me in the future, you need only get in touch. I’d be happy to meet with you again.”

Akira nodded and waved.

“Thanks doc, I’ll, uh, see you around.”

Akira shut the door behind him with a click.

Takuto Maruki leaned back in his chair. He interlocked his fingers and put his hands on his lap.

“Kurusu-kun. Your eyes are bright and honest, but I can sense a pain in you. I hope I can make you happy someday…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, this was a long one. Thanks for your patience! Obviously my focus has been on the Yoshizawa twins, but it's been a lot of fun to give Sojiro and Shinichi some love as well. As always, I'd love to hear your feedback: let me know what you think!
> 
> Some notes:  
> \- I wanted to include a few different scenes in this chapter, but as a result some of the sections are quite short. Sorry if this is jarring!  
> \- The coat Akira receives from Shinichi is based on the coat he wears in the 3rd semester, while Sumire's scarf is based on the one you see in her winter portrait. The gifts for Kasumi are also loosely based off of some of the gifts 'Kasumi' responds positively to. Well done if you picked up on those references!  
> \- There was a video I checked out while writing the scenes with Maruki where a counselling student dissects the scene between him and Sumire. It was interesting to see how many things Maruki does that would be big taboos in a typical counselling session. Naturally some of these are influenced by his motives, but even some seemingly minor details like Maruki wearing a lab coat could come across as intimidating for any of his clients. Worth a watch for sure.  
> \- Last but not least, I tried experimenting with Sumire's viewpoint a bit. I'll probably expand upon this a bit more in later chapters as more of the Thieves are introduced.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leblanc receives a new regular. Akira is invited to go shopping in Kichijoji. The Trickster awakens to their role and rehabilitation.

Akira had never expected his departure from Shibuya General Hospital to come with a sense of longing. Naturally, the circumstances for his time there had been tragic but thinking back on the quiet days spent with Sumire, he felt no strong feelings of regret.

He held up the small black diary in his hand.

“That should be everything you need.” Dr. Nakagawa had instructed. “Don’t take more than two of the painkillers a day and try to maintain a regular exercise routine to help strengthen your physical tolerance.”

Akira bowed with respect.

“Thank you for everything Dr. Nakagawa.”

“Just doing my job kid.” He smiled.

Akira turned away.

“Ah! One more thing, Kurusu-kun. I have something for you from Dr. Maruki.”

Akira tilted his head with piqued interest as Dr. Nakagawa brandished a small notebook with a hard, faux leather cover. He handed it to Akira.

“He said he’d intended to offer it to you in your session, but Takuto can be a bit… scatter-brained… at times. He suggested you keep a diary; ‘keeping a log of your day-to-day activities can be a valuable resource to reflect on’ I believe were his words.”

“I’ll keep that in mind and give him my thanks when I next see him.”

Dr. Nakagawa gave a warm smile and waved Akira off at the hospital entrance.

Akira turned the diary in his hand, before slipping it into his coat pocket. Perhaps a log of his time here in Tokyo would be a good exercise. Besides, if Dr. Maruki had gone to the trouble of gifting him a notebook, the least he could do was put it to use.

The sound of a car horn blared out. He spotted Sojiro Sakura parked up nearby.

“It doesn’t take long to get to Yongen-jaya from here Sakura-san, you didn’t need to come and pick me up.”

Sojiro chuckled and waved his hand, hurrying the boy into the passenger seat.

“Yeah, yeah, no need to thank me. Come on, quicker we get you home, quicker we can put you to work.”

Akira threw his bag in the back seat and shuffled into the passenger seat beside Sojiro.

As Sojiro’s car travelled through the busy crossroads of Shibuya, Akira settled into the comfortable seat and relaxed. Light rainfall pattered against the windscreen, swept away by the rhythmic swipes of the windscreen wipers. Sojiro idly tapped a finger on the top of the steering wheel.

Akira subtly placed one wireless earbud into his left ear so as not to seem rude to Sojiro. He scrolled through the vast list of songs until he settled on one: a sombre acid jazz track. He was ready to close his eyes and unwind when his phone buzzed. A message from Sumire.

_Senpai! I heard you’re being discharged from the hospital today._

Akira smiled. He quickly tapped a response into his phone.

_Yeah. Sojiro just picked me up._

_That’s great news! It must be nice to have some free  
time before school starts next week._

_How did you know?_

_Oh! My dad has been going to Leblanc on his lunch  
breaks. _

_He says Sakura-san mentioned you had enrolled there._

_I see. I’ll be joining as a second year._

_I’m starting there as well! I’ll be a freshman._

There was a pause. Akira watched the three dots at the bottom of the screen bounce up and down.

Then they disappeared for a short moment, only to reappear a few seconds later.

At last, the message came through.

_Since we’ll both be going to Shujin, maybe we could  
meet up near Aoyama-Itchome and walk to  
school together?_

Akira began typing a response, but he was interrupted by an immediate follow-up message from Sumire.

_Ah, but don’t worry if you’d rather go in on your own._

Akira continued typing: his answer had not changed.

_I’d love to. I’ll meet you outside the station?_

Once again, the bouncing ellipsis graced the bottom of his screen, appearing and reappearing periodically. Akira chuckled quietly with a wide smirk on his face as he imagined Sumire typing the message. He could recognise her mannerisms, like her introversion or embarrassment, translated in the words on the screen.

He waited a short while, until a short and sweet response came through.

_Yes! I’m looking forward to it._

Akira pocketed his phone. His expression glowed with a child-like glee as he leaned against the side window.

He felt eyes on him. Akira turned to see Sojiro eyeing him with a characteristic smirk.

“Something’s got you awfully excited.” Sojiro taunted. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were messaging a girlfriend.”

Akira kept his gaze facing outside, but the reflection in the window betrayed him as Sojiro spotted the faint blush on his cheeks.

“Well…? Don’t just leave me in suspense. You already roped me into buying gifts for those sisters, so don’t make it seem as if you’ve got some big secret to hide.”

“I got a text from Sumire…” Akira gave in.

“Sumire, huh…” Sojiro mumbled, weighing the sound of the name. “It’s a pretty name. She’s the quiet one, yeah?”

Akira nodded, still avoiding Sojiro’s eyeline.

“That’s right. I’d been meaning to thank you again, by the way. I think she liked the scarf, and the flowers were a nice touch.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever met a woman who didn’t like flowers. Just pick them up yourself next time.” Sojiro mused.

“That’s good advice.” Akira grinned, spotting his opportunity to flip the conversation topic. “Almost makes me wonder why you’re still a bachelor, Sakura-san.”

“Tch, you rascal. That’s a conversation for another time. And besides, don’t think you can get off that easily.”

Sojiro parked up on a sideroad near Leblanc. He grabbed Akira’s bag from the backseat and carried it into Leblanc.

“Flip the sign over on your way in. I’ll take this up to your room.”

Akira did as instructed before pulling up a stool behind the counter. He reached for the remote to the small TV at the back of the café and switched it on.

To his surprise, he recognised the face that appeared on the fuzzy CRT.

* * *

“Such fascinating insight from the renowned Detective Prince! To think that one so young could have so much wisdom. What else can you tell us about your findings, Akechi-kun?” the presenter announced in an exaggerated tone.

Akechi continued his typical performance, smiling sincerely. The incessant façade bothered him to no end, but it was far too early for him to show his hand.

“Well, I can only share some brief details. This is an open investigation after all, and it wouldn’t befit a ‘Detective Prince’, as you put it, to leak important information, as much as I’d like to keep you all entertained.”

Akechi struck a glossy smile as he earned a few laughs from the crowd.

“As I’m sure you all know, these incidents have been known amongst the public for about six months now. Strange accidents and events in which individuals seemingly collapse or experience a bizarre stupor.”

Akechi’s expression stiffened.

“The most mild of these incidents has resulted in the death of an individual in each circumstance, but some of the more severe occurrences have had large knock-on effects; the potential for victims beyond the affected cannot be downplayed.”

“How horrific…” the TV presenter lamented. “And what do you believe to be the cause of these incidents?”

“At first…” Akechi pondered, “the police reacted to each incident as an individual case. With the cause of death difficult to discern, often ranging from suicide to manslaughter, it was difficult to isolate the true nature of these incidents. But I believe there lies a connection, and it seems the police share my suspicions.”

The young detective addressed the camera directly.

“As such, these recent incidents have since been referred to as the ‘mental shutdown incidents’ among the police, named as such for the commonalities we’ve been able to identify. Victims of a mental shutdown undergo… well, exactly how it sounds: a complete shutdown of all bodily functions. Quite a grim affair, and in truth, I suspect these incidents have been ongoing for almost two years.”

“What a daring assertion! To think such gruesome incidents could have been happening for so much longer than we first anticipated! And you suspect the incident involving the crash of a delivery truck in Shibuya to be one of these ‘mental shutdown’ cases, Akechi-kun? Can you tell us anything else?”

 _You fool._ Akechi spat, albeit in his mind rather than his voice. Part of him revelled in the opportunity: the thrill he would feel in announcing how the director who signed the foolish presenter’s payslips had watched his daughters rushed to the hospital in the very incident the idiot probed him on.

No doubt the ignorant presenter had no idea of such a fact, but Akechi could not risk falling out of favour with the police just yet. They were a valuable asset, despite their faults.

“I’m afraid that many details of that incident are strictly confidential.” He teased with a wink and a finger held towards his lips. “But I can say that, yes, I do suspect that incident to be related to the mental shutdown cases. Though mind you, that is only my personal opinion and should not reflect that of the police.”

“And how lucky we are to have you here to share your fascinating opinions with us!” chimed the co-host. “Thank you once more for coming here today Akechi-kun. I think I speak for everyone here today when I say it’s been a pleasure, isn’t that right everyone?”

The live audience erupted with uproarious cheers. Akechi donned his trademark smile and gave a gentle wave as the camera operator wheeled the heavy-duty camcorder away and adjusted the framing.

“And… we’re on the ad break.” called the floor manager: at last, Akechi’s cue to be rid of this pretentious act.

The young boy picked up his briefcase which sat upright beside his chair on the set. He exchanged light pleasantries, as was expected of him, before stepping out of the TV studio at a brisk pace.

He pulled out his phone. One new message, as expected.

Akechi opened it.

**_HISAO YOSHINAGA_ **

**_JR TRAIN OPERATOR_ **

Akechi chuckled to himself. Unless he were mistaken, the meaning behind the man’s name translated to ‘long-lived man’ or something to that effect. The irony was not lost on him.

Goro Akechi stepped out of the TV studio with a grin. Shibuya station was merely a five-minute walk, after all.

* * *

Sojiro watched the talk show alongside Akira, balancing a cigarette between his fingers. He tapped it on the edge of the ash tray.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve seen your accident covered, but I’ve not heard anything about a mental shutdown.” Sojiro grumbled. “Think that kid’s on to something?”

“He actually visited Sumire and I at the hospital alongside a public prosecutor who was also working with the police. I didn’t get much of a chance to speak with him, but I think they were investigating that same theory.” Akira pondered.

The bell by the entrance chimed as the door opened. Sojiro turned to greet the customer.

“Welcome to Le-“

He paused. Akira turned around.

Standing by the door was a young man in a familiar tan school uniform. One gloved hand was wrapped around the doorknob, while the other held a metallic briefcase.

Goro Akechi stepped into the café. He stared at Sojiro with perplexity for a moment before his eyes wandered to the TV. He watched himself wave goodbye to the live audience as a graphic ident covered the screen.

“Ah. You must be surprised. We recorded that early this morning, you see. In fact, I just came from Shibuya.”

“We’re happy to have you.” Sojiro said warmly and to the point. “What can I get you?”

“Hmm…” Akira tapped his jaw with a fingertip. “A house blend… and a plate of curry to go with it; that would be wonderful. I find myself rather famished after those studio sessions.”

Sojiro gave a nod, turning his attention to Akira.

“I know you’re out of practice, but don’t suppose you could sort out the coffee?”

“Yeah, of course.” Akira affirmed.

Akira quickly donned the green apron, thinking back to the brief period he’d worked before the accident. He prepared the cup as Sojiro had taught him and poured the blend carefully. Akira carefully placed the cup on a saucer and pushed it towards Akechi as wisps of steam rose to the ceiling.

“Thank you kindly.” Akechi said with a gleeful smile.

Akechi delicately raised the mug to his lips and took a steady sip. He sighed contentedly, evaluating the rich texture of the blend.

“Mm… It seems Sae-san’s recommendation was well-founded. This is a pleasant cup of coffee.”

“Glad you like it.” Akira smiled cordially.

A short while afterwards, Sojiro placed a plate of curry in front of Akechi with a hospitable smile. To Akira’s surprise, Sojiro handed one to him as well.

“Figured you might be hungry. I’ve got to step out for a second, so consider this a down payment for taking care of any customers that drop by.”

Sojiro slipped out of the café, leaving Akira and Akechi alone at the counter, sitting side-by-side with fork and spoon in hand.

Akechi was the first to break the silence.

“Well?” he teased. “Aren’t you curious?”

Akira stared at him with a blank expression.

“I thought you’d want to ask me about the mental shutdown incidents. That seems to be the main topic of discussion I find myself indulging at present. And given your relation to the case, I figured you might have a question or two.”

“So you really do think that accident in Shibuya was a mental shutdown?” Akira prodded.

Akechi’s expression lit up as Akira analysed his inference. The prospect of a verbal game of cat and mouse filled him with enthusiasm.

“Mhm… I have reason to suspect so. And while I have yet to discern the cause of these incidents, nor the circumstances under which they occur, I believe another accident could be imminent.” Akechi taunted.

“What makes you say that?”

“It’s quite simple, really…” Akechi hummed as he took another sip of coffee. “As you heard from the talk show, these incidents have dominated the attention of the public for the last six months. But the truth is, similar occurrences can be traced back much further than November of last year.”

“And if that’s the case, you believe that there’s a reason why these incidents are no longer being hidden from the public.” Akira retorted.

Akechi chuckled.

“Very astute of you… Yes, that is my line of thinking. Though admittedly, many unknowns remain so the claim is little more than conjecture.”

“I have one question, Akechi-san.” said Akira. “There’s one assumption that your theory is reliant upon that seems… presumptuous, though admittedly I’m no detective or police officer.”

“Is that so?” Akechi purred, their chase reaching a fever pitch. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

“If you mean to suggest that these incidents have been intentionally revealed to the public despite previously remaining hidden, that would imply that someone is responsible for the mental shutdowns. But I can’t think of any way someone could inflict such symptoms upon a person, it doesn’t resemble any poison or disease I can think of.”

Akechi brought a sly finger to his chin, pondering the notion with an exaggerated, contemplative expression. A practiced performance, which disguised an amused grin he struggled to withhold.

“What an interesting idea. You make for a most riveting conversation partner.” Akechi smiled. “Do you mind if we exchange contact information? I feel our discussion has offered a new perspective, and I would be remiss to pass up such an opportunity for further debate.”

Many of Akechi’s formal phrases and idioms were lost on Akira, but he brought his number up on his phone screen and held it in front of Akechi. The accident in Shibuya still weighed on his mind, and if he could obtain information from Akechi beyond what was discussed on TV shows and online, he might be able to give Sumire and Kasumi some reassurance or comfort.

“Many thanks.” Akechi beamed, scooping the last of the curry onto his spoon. “I’ll have to drop by more often, there are few places I know where I can find all three of good food, drink and discussion.”

“You’re welcome any time.” Akira said amiably.

* * *

It was a Saturday afternoon, the day before Akira planned on visiting the academy to finalise his transfer to Shujin, when he received an unexpected text message.

He smiled as he read Sumire’s name at the top of his phone screen.

_Hey Kurusu-senpai! Are you free today?_

He quickly typed a response.

_Sojiro’s got me working the counter at Leblanc, but  
I can free up some time. What’s up?_

_Well, I wanted to buy some new glasses for my  
Dad, and I remember you had a pair of broken  
glasses at the hospital._

Akira held a hand up to his face, having completely forgotten that his glasses were in need of a replacement. The revelation almost unnerved him, suddenly feeling bare without an iconic piece of his appearance.

Sumire’s follow-up message came after a short delay, as Akira was hesitant to interrupt her as she typed.

_So I was wondering if you wanted to come with me?_

_I know a place in Kichijoji that’s got a wide selection._

_Sounds great, shall I meet you there?_

_If you’d like._

Akira locked his phone once more, only to watch it vibrate loudly on the counter after a short pause. Another message from Sumire.

_Or perhaps I could visit Leblanc? That way we could  
get the train to Kichijoji together?_

Akira smiled, both flattered and surprised by the direct nature of Sumire’s request.

_Better idea. Let’s do that._

Akira pocketed his phone and started preparing a clean coffee mug. Sojiro had often insisted that knowing how to make a good cup of coffee would make him a hit with the ladies.

Time to see the truth in that.

* * *

Sumire arrived at Leblanc just before noon, and after a quick catch-up over a mug of coffee courtesy of Akira, they set out for Kichijoji. Akira was not familiar with the area, so Sumire served as their guide, revelling in the opportunity to lead Akira and teach him about something new.

Just as he had done so during his first time in Yongen-Jaya, Akira recorded any shop, store or venue that piqued his interest, making notes on the quickest routes to each place and the key attractions. Sumire joined him in the endeavour, adding a second-hand clothes shop and various food stalls to the specialty shops and a game bar curiously named ‘Penguin Sniper’ which already graced his list.

Eventually, they came across the shop Sumire had been recommended: a stylish open-air boutique for all manner of eyewear. Rows and columns of glasses graced every wall and shelf of the shop, with plenty of pairs to try on.

“There are lots of… unique styles here.” Akira said curiously as he picked up a pair of tacky purple glasses with lenses shaped like stars. His eyes flashed with mischief as he turned to Sumire.

“Try these on.”

Akira gently removed Sumire’s glasses, causing her to squirm and fluster quietly. He pushed the gaudy eyewear onto her face and took a step back, observing the style through a finger frame.

Sumire puffed out her cheeks with a charming pout.

“I don’t think these suit me at all…” Sumire argued.

Akira struggled to withhold his laughter, earning further protests from Sumire.

“Senpai! You’re so mean…” she huffed. The redhead retreated into her scarf, only heightening the amusement of the ridiculous glasses.

Akira carefully removed them from Sumire’s face, placing them on his own instead. He spun his head around in an exaggerated pose.

“What do you think, do they suit me any better?”

Sumire started giggling as Akira hopped between different glamour poses, the farcical glasses bouncing at the end of his nose.

“Okay, you’re forgiven. I can see why you thought they were so funny.” Sumire made out between chuckles of laughter.

Akira returned the glasses to the shelf, but immediately fixed his attention to another pair. Somehow they surpassed all appeal of the previous pair.

Akira turned his back to Sumire to hide the novelty glasses as he carefully put them on.

He turned around, revealing a pair of glasses with large circular rims, an obscene rubber nose and a fake moustache.

Sumire burst out in laughter.

“W-why are those even here!?” she giggled. “I almost want to buy them…”

Akira removed the glasses and held them in front of Sumire’s face.

“These would _definitely_ suit you, try them on!”

Sumire protested with her hands held up amidst cheerful laughter.

“W-we should probably focus on finding a more serious pair.” Sumire laughed, finally coming down from self-inflicted delirium of her non-stop laughter.

“If you say so…” Akira said wistfully. “What do you think your dad would like?”

“Hmm… I don’t know… A lot of them are good, but there are so many to choose from. I’m having trouble deciding on one that I know he’d like.” Sumire ruminated with a sad expression.

“Trust your instincts.” Akira said. “You know him well, I’m sure he’ll like whatever you pick out for him.”

“You’re right!” Sumire nodded with resolve. She scanned the shelves of glasses with renewed focus, coming to a stop by a pair of bright red glasses. They conveyed a joyfulness without appearing childish or tacky.

“I don’t know why, or how to describe it, but I think these would be perfect for my dad.” she decided.

“I’m sure he’ll love them.” Akira agreed.

“What about you Senpai? Have you seen a pair you like the look of?” Sumire asked with a slight tilt of the head.

Akira nodded, holding up a stylish pair of black glasses with large rims, identical to his old pair.

“I suppose there’s no sense in changing your style if that’s what you’re happy with.” Sumire nodded.

The pair paid for their respective purchases at the till and stepping back out into the Kichijoji promenade. Sumire tugged at Akira’s coat.

“Um… I-I, uh, just wanted to say thanks, Kurusu-senpai. I know it sounds silly, but I’ve always been really indecisive when it comes to this kind of thing. Kasumi’s the one who’s good at picking out clothes or styles, but today I felt like I could make a decision I could be happy with because I had you supporting me.”

Akira smiled warmly, eliciting a flustered blush from Sumire.

“A-and I had a lot of fun too. Especially when you put on those ridiculous glasses!”

Akira smirked, and reached into the shopping bag. He performed a quick pirouette, deftly slipping the novelty glasses onto his face while his back was turned to Sumire.

“You mean these?” he grinned.

It took until the pair got to the station for Sumire to rein in her laughter.

* * *

The next day, Akira stepped down the creaky stairs to find a plate of hot curry waiting for him.

“You do have an interesting notion for breakfast meals, Sakura-san.” Akira jibed.

“If you don’t eat it quickly you won’t get any breakfast at all, kid. We’re meeting with your new principal and homeroom teacher in forty-five minutes. I’ll drive you, but just this once.”

The morning skies were cloudy and grey as Sojiro drove to Shujin Academy. Akira watched the clouds nervously, serving as a painful reminder that he had still not picked up an umbrella. He prayed the April showers would show him some small mercy.

The entrance to Shujin Academy was relatively unimpressive. Though the front gate had an interesting art deco design, the grey concrete building behind the grey concrete walls didn’t fill Akira with any sense of grandeur.

“Your transfer request came at a short notice but given your good conduct at your previous school and your adequate test results, we were happy to offer you a position.” droned the overweight principal, the buttons on his mustard yellow suit threatening to burst from their seams.

“But know that Shujin Academy is a prestigious school with a history of success. We expect you to work hard to live up to the ideals our school represents.”

Akira nodded with feigned interest as Principal Kobayakawa continued his blatantly rehearsed marketing spiel. Eventually, the younger female teacher handed him an ID card and a student handbook.

“I’m Sadayo Kawakami, I’ll be your homeroom teacher. Be sure to familiarise yourself with the school’s code of conduct before you arrive tomorrow morning.”

“If that’s all…” Sojiro interrupted, “I’ve got some business I still need to take care of today. I’ve got a shop to get back to, you see.”

“Of course, Sakura-san.” Kobayakawa nodded, though Akira struggled to notice.

Sojiro and Akira stepped out of the school entrance once more. Sojiro turned towards the car.

“I’ve got to go fetch some supplies for the store in Shibuya. It ought to be quicker if you make your own way back; it’ll give you a chance to get used to the trains as well. That okay?”

“No problem at all.” Akira responded.

Sojiro shuffled into the car with a wave, as Akira turned towards Aoyama-Itchome station. He turned the corner and looked around, reluctantly pulling his phone out and searching for directions.

Once he arrived at the station, he planned the route to Yongen-jaya via Shibuya with little problem. Fortunately, the rail pass he’d picked up covered his fare, so Akira slipped through the turnstiles at Shibuya station. He had planned on returning straight to Leblanc, but given the fact that Sojiro would be out, he figured he had some time to kill.

Akira absent-mindedly brought up a list of hotspots and attractions around Shibuya. He swiped through his app tray, but paused when he spotted something unfamiliar near the corner of his home screen.

A black and red app with an icon resembling an eye had appeared on his phone. Akira held his thumb over the app icon to bring up a list of information about the software, but unlike the other apps on his phone, he could see no name or info, not even a file size.

Akira stared at the phone with a perplexed expression, until the refreshing April breeze came to an alarming standstill.

His eyes widened.

It wasn’t just the breeze. Passers-by and busy Shibuya crowds alike came to a slow halt, as if frozen in place. Akira adjusted his glasses with concern, his mind drifting back to that moment before the accident with Sumire and Kasumi. But somehow, this felt different.

He raised a wary hand in front of a nearby commuter, frozen in place with a phone glued to his ear. Akira could hear nothing on the other line.

Then his eyes fixed to the centre of the renowned Shibuya Crossing, where an ethereal blue flame burned fiercely like a pyre.

Akira stared down the spectral embers, narrowing his eyes as he watched a fiendish visage form amidst the flames. He tried to avert his gaze, but his body felt powerless and immobile.

He blinked.

And in an instant, Shibuya returned to normal once more.

Akira rubbed his eyes wearily, still unsure what exactly he had just experienced.

He looked down at the icon on his phone once more, pulsating like some ghastly affliction.

Akira dragged the app towards the bottom of his screen, holding it aloft an opaque area with a rubbish bin. He deleted the app without so much as a second thought.

The boy massaged his forehead and temple with an outstretched hand before turning back towards the station. Shibuya was a big place, and he’d have plenty of time to explore it later.

He approached the escalators descending to the ticketing area before a uniformed man stopped him with an outstretched hand.

“Sorry sir, but we’re experiencing some technical difficulties on the lower line, we can’t allow passengers down to the platform at this time. We can arrange for a replacement bus service, if you’d like?”

Akira sighed heavily.

“It’s alright, I can walk.”

* * *

It wasn’t until Akira returned to Leblanc and turned on the television that he realised the extent of the ‘technical difficulties’ he’d heard about in Shibuya. A chill raced down his spine.

Footage of an underground train racing past a platform at high speeds featured on the breaking news story. Apparently, the rails buckled beneath the rapidly moving wheels, resulting in a horrific accident on the platform. Train carriages were crushed together and turned over onto their side.

He received a panicked phone call from Sojiro shortly after he’d turned the news channel on.

“I’m just glad you’re alright, kid.” Sojiro mumbled with relief. “They announced that accident over the radio while I was stuck in traffic and given your track record with accidents in Shibuya, I feared the worst.”

“Sorry to make you worry.” Akira said.

“Don’t worry about it. I won’t make it back to Leblanc in time to open up, so feel free to flip the sign at the front and take the evening off.”

Sojiro hung up, and Akira sprawled out over the counter with a heavy sigh. He remembered the diary he received from Dr. Maruki which he had now slipped into a side pocket of his Shujin school bag. He’d only written one entry so far: his day with Sumire at Kichijoji, but the events of today seemed too pertinent to ignore.

Akira wrote a comprehensive account of the day, including the strange hallucination in Shibuya and the train accident, before collapsing on the bed. He dreaded the premise of a full school day tomorrow as weariness plagued his mind.

It didn’t take long for Akira to drift off, but his slumber was not a restful one. His eyes flickered open, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling tinted an unusual shade of blue.

Akira rubbed his eyes as his blurry vision began to focus. One thing was immediately clear: he was not in the dusty Leblanc attic.

His blanket was gone, and the mattress beneath him felt cold and stiff like a slab of concrete. He heard the clanging of metal as he brought his hands away from his eyes.

His sense of alarm only grew stronger as he noticed the cast iron chains fastened to his wrists.

Akira looked further down. His sleepwear had been replaced with a tattered black and white uniform and a heavy iron ball was fastened to his ankle by a dusty chain.

He pulled himself to his feet, stepping towards the only source of light in the room; towards the sturdy iron bars at the end of his cell, with a muffled clanging behind him.

That’s when the most unsettling feature of the mysterious place struck him.

Akira stood still and perked his ears, but to his horror, the boy heard nothing at all. But it was beyond that, as if the whole room existed in a vacuum. The only sound he heard was of his own making: the metallic ringing of the chains around his limbs, the irregular breaths that escaped his throat, even the beating of his heart and the guttural sounds of his stomach.

Then, he heard two pairs of footsteps, pounding in his ears amidst the unnatural silence.

Two young girls with bizarre blue outfits stood dutifully on the other side of the bars. Eyepatches masked their left and right eyes respectively.

They stood in front of Akira before parting, revealing a lone desk and chair in the centre of the room.

A deep, disarming voice spoke out.

“How curious… For a room that reflects the owner’s heart to take the form of a prison. And an anechoic chamber, no less. You truly are a ‘prisoner’ of fate.”

The deep voice chuckled with a sinister laugh, as Akira identified its source.

A spindly man with long, spider-like limbs sat at the desk in the centre of the room, his pointed ears and obscenely long nose unnerved Akira. He sat with his hands clasped together, before unfurling his fingers towards the boy with an open palm.

“Trickster… Welcome to my Velvet Room.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew, this was a fun one! I'd originally planned to include the first day at Shujin in this chapter, but I got a bit carried away writing the scenes with Akechi and the trip to Kichijoji with Sumire so, rest assured, you'll see some fresh faces at the start of the next chapter. Sorry Ryuji-fans, your time will come soon.
> 
> Also, a big thank you to everyone who has left a comment. I read every single one, and I try to respond to all of them as well, so please keep them coming!
> 
> As always, some notes:  
> \- To anyone who picked up on the absence of the Jazz Club in Akira's list of Kichijoji attractions, don't worry. The Jazz Club was one of my favourite additions to Royal, so you can be sure I plan on writing scenes around it.  
> \- I experimented with the idea of creating a Velvet Room that didn't resemble a prison: some of the ideas I toyed with included a train carriage, or even an amusement park! Ultimately, I decided to stick with the prison with that one specific caveat, as I wanted to use the Velvet Room to explore that narrative thread further without making it seem too radically different or off-putting.  
> \- I've read some of your interesting comments going further into the meaning behind the kanji of Ren's name. It almost made me wonder whether I should go back through the existing chapters and change the protagonist's name from Akira to Ren, but I figured it would just seem jarring to existing readers to have the main character's name suddenly change.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first day of the new semester at Shujin Academy begins. Akira and Sumire each make a friend. The Trickster awakens to his Persona.

Akira woke the next day, uneasy and slick with sweat. The strange man known as Igor; the twin wardens Caroline and Justine; and that strange Velvet Room… The experience seemed far too real for him to pass off as a dream. The way Igor spoke of ‘contracts’ and ‘ruin’ dwelled in the back on his mind with a sense of foreboding.

He reached for his phone on the windowsill. Enabling the touch screen, Akira furrowed his brow.

The strange, red and black app had returned to his phone.

“Hey kid, you better not still be sleeping.” he heard Sojiro shout from downstairs.

Akira shelved his apprehensions and shuffled off the mattress. He inspected the Shujin blazer and plaid pants he’d laid out the night before; it certainly wasn’t the most discreet school uniform, but he’d have to get used to it…

He hopped down the steps to find Sojiro waiting with a plate of curry served on the counter.

“Make sure you finish it before any customers come in.”

“Thanks for the meal, Boss.” Akira smiled.

“Hmph, I don’t remember telling you to call me Boss.” Sojiro scowled.

“I heard one of your regulars call you that when you were out the other day,” Akira responded, “hope it doesn’t bother you.”

Akira’s phone buzzed on the counter. A text from Sumire.

_Good morning Senpai! You haven’t forgotten that we’re meeting  
up today, right? I’ll see you outside Aoyama-Itchome station._

Akira punched in a quick response.

_Looking forward to it. Text me when you get there._

“I can put up with it.” Sojiro chuckled. “Now come on, you better get going. You’ve not forgotten anything have you?”

Akira locked his phone and slipped it into his pocket.

“Don’t think so,” Akira spun from the seat with a two-finger salute. “I’ll see you later.”

Akira dashed out of the café before Sojiro could get a word in.

* * *

Sumire’s alarm blared in her ears, eliciting a tired groan from the young girl. She pulled her duvet closer as the alarm eventually fell silent, until a second back-up alarm blared just as loudly ten minutes later.

The drowsy girl swiped idly towards her phone with her face planted in her pillow. After a few attempts, she disabled the ringing and curled over onto her back.

Sumire moved long strands of her from her face and rubbed her eyes wearily. She wasn’t scared about her first day at Shujin, but her meeting with Akira was a much stronger motivation for getting out of bed than the prospect of meeting a classroom of unfamiliar high schoolers.

She composed a quick message to him with a smile, before placing her phone on a nearby desk and hurrying to the bathroom.

Sumire had a quick shower, letting her thoughts relax under the warm therapeutic water. Once she’d returned to her room, Sumire donned her new school uniform and ran a brush through her hair.

Looking into the mirror, her eyes wandered to a pile of hairbands on top of her dresser. She grabbed one and evaluated how her hair looked tied up into a ponytail: mimicking the style Kasumi wore so often.

The girl puffed out her cheeks and tossed the hairband back to the pile. Sumire checked her phone, her eyes turning wide as she realised the time: it was already 8 o’clock and the train to Aoyama-Itchome would be at least 20-25 minutes!

She tossed her school blazer over her shoulders and grabbed her scarf, which trailed behind her as she dashed down the stairs.

Her mother and father were already seated at the kitchen table, enjoying a breakfast of natto, white rice and miso soup.

Shinichi handed his daughter a small portion of rice, which Sumire graciously accepted while simultaneously reaching into the fridge for a handful of vegetables. She dumped them into a blender and scarfed down the rice.

“You’re in quite a rush…” Shinichi teased.

“I’m supposed to be meeting Kurusu-senpai at Aoyama-Itchome station, but I’m running late!” she said with panic evident in her voice.

“I can give you a lift if you’d like?” Shinichi offered, but Sumire shook her head, reluctant to impose.

“It’s okay.” Sumire said as she poured the vegetable juice into a plastic bottle and placed the empty bowl on the kitchen table. Sumire grabbed a bento box she’d prepared the night before and slipped it into her bag for lunch, before striding towards the front door. Her mother’s voice rang out.

“Don’t forget an umbrella!” Sumire’s mother chided.

Sumire hooked the umbrella handle around her wrist and opened the front door with haste.

“Sumire!” called Shinichi.

Sumire turned to face him impatiently, awaiting his response.

“I’m visiting Kasumi after work today. She's starting her physical rehabilitation.”

Her frantic rushing faded for a moment as Sumire’s expression turned more serious.

“Already? She’s so strong…” she mumbled. “I’ll meet you there after school.”

Shinichi nodded and turned back to his breakfast with a wave, releasing Sumire. He chuckled under his breath as Sumire hustled out of the front door.

Before long, the young gymnast had weaved through the crowds at the station and packed into a train carriage. She repeatedly checked the time on her phone, counting each minute every time the train approached a new platform.

Once she arrived at Shibuya, Sumire rushed to the line destined for Aoyama-Itchome, typing a frantic message to Akira as she ran.

_Running late, don’t wait for me if it would make you late._

She deftly sidestepped the crowds but stumbled as she knocked past a blasé commuter.

“S-sorry!” she called out behind her, but without slowing her pace.

Boarding the train to Aoyama-Itchome, Sumire checked her phone once more. A response from Akira had arrived a couple minutes ago.

_I’m waiting outside the station, just up the stairs by  
a clothing boutique with a red awning._

“8:23am… But it’s only a few stops away…” she muttered.

As the train doors opened at Aoyama-Itchome, a tired Sumire raced through the station's turnstiles. She dashed up the stairs and looked around, panting to recover her breath.

She spotted the shop front of ‘Jeunesse et beaute’ just ahead: a women’s boutique with a red awning, it had to be the place. But Akira was nowhere to be seen.

The clock on her phone read 8:27. She typed a quick message.

_Just got here Senpai, did you go on ahead?_

She slipped her phone into her blazer pocket, but quickly pulled it out again as it vibrated with a notification. Expecting a message from Akira, she tilted her head with curiosity.

Her text had failed to send, as if the number did not exist.

* * *

An umbrella.

As always, Akira had forgotten his damned umbrella.

Akira finished typing his reply to Sumire as he stood sheltered from the heavy rain. He was keen to wait for Sumire but showing up late as a new transfer would leave a poor first impression on teacher and classmate alike.

The Trickster stood patiently, only looking up from his phone when another figure joined him under the red awning. She wasn’t wearing the typical Shujin uniform that he’d seen on other students during his trip into school that morning.

The girl pulled back her hood, revealing a mass of bright blonde hair unlike any he’d ever seen. Her blue eyes peered up to the clouds to inspect whether the downpour was likely to let up, while an idle hand brushed raindrops from her sleeves.

Akira had to consciously stop himself from staring at the beautiful girl beside him when she noticed his gaze and offered a silent, gentle smile. He reciprocated, before turning to his phone bashfully.

A car pulled up alongside the pavement and sounded its horn. The window by the passenger seat rolled down and a middle-aged teacher in gym clothes leaned out towards the pair.

“Good morning,” he hummed, “want me to give you a ride to school? You’re going to be late standing around like that.”

Akira turned to the blonde girl standing by his side who he could tell the man’s question was directed to.

“U-um, sure. Thank you.” She murmured, stepping out from beneath the awning and approaching the passenger seat. The man’s gaze shifted to Akira.

“What about you? Need a lift as well?”

The man seemed trustworthy enough, but Akira was insistent on waiting for Sumire for as long as possible. He held up a hand and dismissed the man’s offer wordlessly.

The blonde student sat in the passenger seat with an apathetic gaze as the car accelerated down the road. Akira returned his attention to his phone, checking the status bar at the top of his screen. No text from Sumire, but he noticed the familiar eye-icon to suggest the app was running in the background.

He’d have to ask Igor what it meant if that experience really had been more than a crazy nightmare.

The sound of heavy footfalls and splashing in puddles of water perked in his ears as another student rushed past in escape of the rain, though to his surprise he paused nearby.

“Damn that pervy teacher…” he muttered.

“Pervy teacher…?” Akira repeated, processing the boy’s statement.

The student turned to face Akira with an unwelcoming scowl. Just like the previous student, he too had blonde hair, though his was obviously dyed with product. The vulgar boy postured towards him.

“What’s your business? Don’t tell me you’re gonna rat me out to that bastard Kamoshida?”

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I follow.” Akira responded. The boy’s hostile expression turned to one of confusion.

“Huh? In that car just now, that was Kamoshida wasn’t it? The P.E. teacher who parades around school like he’s the king of a castle. You seriously don’t know him?”

Akira shook his head, eliciting another confused groan from the boy. He peered in closely and stared at Akira’s collar.

“You go to Shujin right? Looks like you’re a second year, same as me.”

“I’m a new transfer, I only moved to Tokyo last month.” Akira countered, quickly dispelling the misunderstanding.

“Oh, that so? No wonder you don’t know Kamoshida then. Name’s Ryuji Sakamoto, by the way.”

“Akira Kurusu.” Akira nodded cordially.

Ryuji looked around; the rain had eased up considerably.

“Should probably get a move on now that the rain’s not too bad. We’ll be late if we don’t hurry.”

Akira peeked at his phone with reluctance. It had just hit 8:27, and there was still no response from Sumire. He turned back towards the station stairs as well: the young gymnast was nowhere to be seen.

“Alright. Lead the wa-“

Akira grasped his head as a wave of dizziness passed over him. His weak right side dulled with a familiar ache and his vision blurred. Then, the sensation passed just as quickly.

“Nnh… Dammit… I wanna go home…” he heard Ryuji mumble before he wandered down the pavement towards the school.

With a shake of the head, Akira pocketed his phone and followed shortly behind.

* * *

Sumire sat in the Shujin cafeteria, stabbing at her lunch with a pair of chopsticks. While nearby tables were full of Shujin students socialising, Sumire sat alone, and no students approached her table to join her.

The young gymnast’s attention was still fixed on her phone: her text to Akira from the morning had not yet been delivered. Thoughts and possibilities raced through her mind like a high-speed carousel.

_He was waiting by the station, but I didn’t see him there and I’ve not heard from him all day… Akira’s so confident, it’s not like him to skip the first day of school. What if he’s in trouble?_

Sumire massaged her forehead with anxiety, still piercing her rice and salad with idle jabs. She was so caught up in her own thoughts that she didn’t even notice the slim figure standing by the table.

“U-um, Sumire Yoshizawa-san?”

Sumire looked up with a start. A tall second year girl with a black ponytail held up by a bright pink hairband stood by the cafeteria table. She gestured to the table.

“Do you mind if I sit?”

“Not at all,” Sumire smiled, “You’re the first person to even talk to me today.”

“It’s possible some of the other students distance themselves from you because you’re an honour student. Try not to let it bother you.” The girl suggested. Sumire tilted her head.

“How did you know I was an honour student? The rumours I presume?”

“I try to ignore rumours. I’m the second-year representative for P.E. clubs and programmes, Shiho Suzui.” Shiho introduced herself with a sombre smile.

“It’s nice to meet you Suzui-senpai. I guess you already know who I am, but is there something you need me for?”

“I was asked to introduce you to the P.E. faculty and show you around the gymnasium, but if you’d like I could give you a tour of the whole school? I remember feeling so lost when I started at Shujin, so I’m happy to help you settle in.”

Sumire was caught off guard by the girl’s friendliness. Her words stumbled and caught in her throat, but she nodded eagerly. She was already standing up and picking up her bag before Shiho stopped her.

“D-don’t you want to finish your lunch?” Shiho queried, pointing to the almost untouched meal still placed on the table.

“A-ah! S-sorry, I got a bit carried away.” The redhead apologised sheepishly. The two girls resumed their lunch together.

Sumire was far from proficient when it came to small talk, but she found Shiho easy to talk to, no doubt thanks to her sincerity and quiet temperament. Sumire listened keenly as Shiho spoke about her own sporting ambitions: Shiho was a starter in Shujin’s prominent volleyball team, hoping to win an upcoming national-level competition.

“That’s amazing, Suzui-senpai! It must be nice to have the fitness and physicality to play a team sport like volleyball.” Sumire applauded, shovelling servings of rice into her mouth between sentences.

“Truth be told, I rely on my teammates a lot. And besides, you must be just as fit to be a professional gymnast. I’d love to watch your routine some time.” Shiho countered.

Sumire’s cheeks flushed with a gentle blush.

“O-oh! I’ve only ever shown my routine to my coach, or my sister Kasumi, outside of competitions and meets that is.” she said with a flustered tone.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Shiho apologised, but Sumire shook her head.

“N-no, it’s not that at all! It makes me h-happy; I’d love to show you some time.”

The two girls bonded as they finished their respective lunches. Once they’d finished eating, Shiho set off towards the gym. Shiho spoke as they walked, explaining the layout of the school, and directing Sumire to different classrooms and offices.

“You have permission to take some time from your next class for the induction since you’re part of a sports programme, so don’t worry about being late. The practice hall is just down this way.”

The gym was bustling with students in the bright red Shujin P.E. uniform, participating in various games and sports. Shiho and Sumire passed by the space designated for outdoor activities like track and field en route to the faculty office.

When they stood outside the P.E. office, Shiho paused with trepidation. Her gaze turned distant, and she trembled in place. Sumire turned to her with concern.

“Suzui-senpai? Is something wrong?”

Shiho shook her head decisively.

“It’s n-nothing.”

She knocked on the door with the back of her hand. After a short pause, the door was opened by a broad P.E. teacher: Suguru Kamoshida. He leered over the two girls.

“Suzui-san, diligent as always! And you must be Yoshizawa-san, it’s a pleasure to meet one of Shujin’s next rising stars.”

His gaze turned to Shiho.

“Suzui, you can head to your next class. I need to talk to Yoshizawa-san on what will be expected of her from a Shujin honours student.”

Shiho shuddered, but nodded wordlessly. She briskly walked away from Kamoshida, leaving him alone with Sumire.

“Now, where were we…” Kamoshida purred. “First off, I wanted to offer my remorse for what happened to your sister Kasumi. It’s a terrible blow for Shujin to lose such a promising young athlete, but I know the incident must weigh heavily on you.”

Sumire stiffened and said nothing. She could tell Kamoshida had no genuine concern for Kasumi’s wellbeing: if he cared for anything, it was only that the school had lost a transfer student with high prospects.

“But I know that you’ll work twice as hard in Kasumi’s place Yoshizawa-san, as is expected of you, of course.”

Kamoshida took a slow step closer to Sumire. The young girl kept her eyeline towards the ground, avoiding the teacher’s gaze.

“However, you’re not alone. Shujin Academy is a place where those with aspirations come to learn, after all, you’ll have plenty of classmates to help you. And while I may not be a gymnast myself, it goes without saying that I’m a great athlete. I’m always happy to lend a hand if you need support with your training, hmm?”

Kamoshida hummed as he lowered a hand towards Sumire’s shoulder. The young girl flinched and closed her eyes.

But she didn’t feel anything.

“Nngh…!?”

Sumire opened one eye and peered up. She saw the arm of a Shujin blazer stretched out over her shoulder. She turned around.

Akira Kurusu stood behind her, grabbing Kamoshida’s wrist with a tight grip and a vindictive stare.

“Kurusu-senpai!?” Sumire yelped in awe and confusion.

“You little…!” Kamoshida muttered, pulling his arm free from Akira’s hold. “So, you’re the delinquent in Kawakami’s class who didn’t show up for his morning lessons. And now you’re showing violent behaviour towards a teacher?”

Akira stood silent, planting himself between Kamoshida and Sumire.

“I wouldn’t associate with students like this one, Yoshizawa-san. Troublemakers like him are a disgrace to the Shujin name.” Kamoshida scowled with fury.

“And as for you…” he muttered, turning to Akira. “You’re officially on my shit-list, kid. Get lost if you know what’s good for you.”

Kamoshida retreated into the faculty office, slamming the door behind him.

Sumire stood stunned in the hallway as her mind caught up with the scene that had just happened in front of her. The young redhead’s eyes widened as she came to a sudden realisation.

Akira had grabbed Kamoshida’s wrist with an iron grip, but his other hand had grabbed Sumire’s. As the pair stood alone in the corridor, Akira still held Sumire’s hand with a firm, comforting grip.

She blushed fiercely.

“S-senpai! I-I!”

Akira didn’t let go. He simply turned to her with a relieved smile.

“Sorry I’m late.”

* * *

When Ryuji and Akira had turned the corner to the street Shujin Academy was on, neither could have expected the sight that stood in front of them.

The school had vanished, replaced by a European medieval castle. It was completely unlike anything Akira had ever seen before, and every rational possibility for its being there made no sense to him.

“The hell? Did we take a wrong turn?” Ryuji grumbled.

He approached the seemingly normal concrete wall outside of the castle. It read “Shujin Academy” on the front.

“Is the school doin’ some kind of festival or something? Seems a bit tacky to me.”

“Doesn’t this seem off to you?” Akira protested.

Ryuji walked over the drawbridge, Akira’s objections falling on deaf ears.

“C’mon man, we’ll be late if we stand around out here. Let’s just go inside and see what’s up.”

As it turned out, the castle’s interior made as little sense as its exterior. The two students stepped into a vast foyer, decorated with gaudy portraiture, red carpets, and antique chandeliers. It was completely beyond the scope of any high school.

“Okay, maybe you’re right…” Ryuji conceded. “Is this for real?”

His eyes scanned the room, stopping at a gigantic portrait behind a vast staircase. He gaped in disbelief.

“Hold up, is that-“

Loud clanging sounds rang out from a nearby corridor. A pair of individuals in heavy plate armour stepped out into the foyer, equipped with a medieval sword and shield.

“Woaaaah-ho-ho! That’s one hell of a costume dude, looks pretty real.” Ryuji gawked.

“I’m not sure they’re friendly, Ryuji…” Akira warned.

More clanging, as another pair of armoured figures surrounding the pair.

“Y-you might be right. What the hell’s going o-“

A figure slammed his shield into Ryuji before he could finish, knocking the boy out cold.

Before he could turn, heavy steel smashed into Akira’s back. He passed out.

* * *

When he regained consciousness, Akira felt damp brick on his cheek. He clutched his aching skull and stood to his feet with a shaky stance.

Ryuji was already awake, standing with his hands gripped on the bars of a jail cell. He shook and screamed like a feral animal.

“What the hell! Let us out, this is bullshit!” he shouted, but the only sound that filled the prison was the sound of running water.

“There’s got to be a way out of here.” Akira mumbled, inspecting their jail cell carefully.

“It’s no use, I already looked around.” Ryuji complained.

A sleezy voice called from nearby. Its owner stepped in front of the jail cell, garbed in nothing but a glittery crown, a garish cape and tight pink underwear.

The teacher Akira had seen earlier in the morning stood on the other side of the bars, flanked by a pair of guards like they’d seen in the foyer.

His suspicions were confirmed by Ryuji’s outburst.

“What the hell… Kamoshida!?”

“I thought it was some insignificant thief, but instead I find you, Sakamoto… I should’ve known you’d demonstrate your disobedience by trespassing in my castle.”

Kamoshida turned to Akira with a sneer.

“And look! You even brought a friend with you because you can’t do anything by yourself.”

“Shut up you asshole, let us outta here!” Ryuji lashed out, thrashing against the iron bars violently.

“Oho, first you sneak into my castle, and now you’ve committed the crime of insulting me – the king. Therefore, it’s time for your punishment – execution.”

“T-the hell?!” Ryuji yelped.

An armoured knight opened the cell and drove Ryuji back towards the far wall. He tried to fight back, but a shield slam to the stomach winded the blonde student and brought him to his knees.

A second knight grabbed Akira by the neck with a gauntleted grip, pinning him to the wall.

“Stop it!” Akira yelled.

“Hmph, don’t tell me you’re stupid enough to speak out against me. You should know who I am…” the gaudy Kamoshida mocked. He turned back towards Ryuji with a wave of his hand.

“That one’s execution will come later, after I deal with this peasant.”

Kamoshida took a sword from one of his henchman, looming over the grounded Ryuji with a vile smirk.

Akira struggled helplessly with desperation.

**_Are you simply going to watch?_ **

Akira’s head ached with a shudder. The sly voice boomed once more.

**_Death awaits him if you do nothing, yet it seems you would forsake him  
to save yourself. You’ve spent your whole life watching the conflicts of  
others, but when it matters most you remain passive and silent._ **

“No, please…” Akira pleaded in a hushed tone. Memories of his childhood flickered in his mind: shouts and screams, crashing sounds, he had always retreated to a place of comfort.

**_Do you still intend to forsake him?_ **

“No.” Akira spat. “Never again.”

**_Very well, I have heeded your resolve._ **

A debilitating wave of dizziness rocked Akira’s head, blurring his vision and causing his whole body to shudder. A searing pain coursed through his body. Akira could do nothing but squirm violently under the grip of the knights, crying out in pain.

**_Vow to me.  
I am thou, thou art I…_ **

**_Thou who fled from confrontation and shrunk from the truth,  
embrace the shadows you’ve retreated to,  
and harness them to finally enact your own justice._ **

**_Show the strength of thy will to ascertain all on thine own,  
though thou be chained to Hell itself!_ **

The intense seizures subsided as Akira stared down Kamoshida’s ugly figure, his back turned to the Trickster. The gaudy king extended his finger towards Ryuji.

“Execute him, at once!” he ordered.

“I won’t let you!” Akira shrieked with a horrific cry.

Kamoshida turned to face Akira with a pretentious grin.

“You desire to be killed that much? Fine, I will grant your foolish desire.”

One of Kamoshida’s henchman clubbed Akira with his shield, knocking the boy’s glasses to the ground. He clutched his face with a clawed grip, gripping the rim of a white porcelain mask.

Akira touched the mask bound to his face with confusion, until instinct took over. He gripped it tightly and pulled. An unbearable pain unlike any other he had ever experienced washed over his face and body, but his drive did not falter.

He screamed as the black and white mask was severed from his face. A visage of blood covered the boy’s face, pierced only by the supernatural glow of Akira’s gold-tinted eyes.

Until his whole form was engulfed by a blue spectral fire.

A demonic spectre coalesced behind Akira surrounded in broken links of ethereal chains. Akira himself stood in an unusual outfit: he wore a pitch black, ankle-length tailcoat, a waistcoat with gold accents, black pants, and a pair of red gloves.

“Holy shit…” Ryuji mustered.

Kamoshida screeched an order to the incapacitated guards, who slowly roused from the ground. Their bodies, previously sprawled out unnaturally, snapped into place grotesquely like a pair of marionettes.

“Start by killing that one!”

Akira clicked his fingers. The twilight figure released eldritch bolts towards the pair of knights, vaporising them in short order.

Kamoshida squeaked as Ryuji stood to his feet, spotting his opportunity. He shoulder-barged the man and seized the cell keys that had fallen to the ground.

“Good thinking,” Akira noted, “Lock the door, we’re getting out of here.”

Ryuji did as instructed before tossing the keys into the river behind them. He watched Kamoshida squirm against the iron bars just as he had moments ago with a derisive look of satisfaction.

He turned to Akira in disbelief.

“Dude, what the hell was that just now!? And what’s with those clothes?”

Kamoshida thrashed violently as Ryuji jumped back in surprise.

“Waaaah!” he cried.

“Damn you, you bastards!” Kamoshida spat.

Akira gestured to a door at the end of the path.

“Come on, let’s go.”

The pair of students made a swift escape from the castle dungeon. Ryuji’s attention was seized by some of the other prisoners, but his flustered thoughts made it impossible to identify what exactly was bugging him about them.

Akira’s primary concern was finding their way out of the castle, that is, until they spotted a bizarre, cat-like creature in a jail cell.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me…” Ryuji moaned.

Akira couldn’t help but share Ryuji’s feeling of disbelief. He’d almost wondered if the painkillers Dr. Nakagawa had given him for his injuries were giving him some crazy hallucinations.

The cat introduced himself as Morgana, before coercing the pair into freeing him with the prospect of an escape route. Ryuji was cautious, but Akira shrugged and seized the keys hung on a nail nearby.

“You seriously going to let that thing loose?” Ryuji questioned.

“This is the first thing in this damned castle that hasn’t tried to kill us. I’ll take my chances.” Akira responded. Ryuji had no counter; all he could do was shrug as the iron door swung open.

Morgana began to explain what he knew about the realm as the trio made their escape. As Akira understood it, the castle was a location formed by desires and cognitions made manifest.

“So Kamoshida sees the school as a castle, and his true nature is that he's some disgusting perv, so put those together and this is what you get?” Akira theorised mid-dash.

“You grasp things quickly!” Morgana praised. “You’ve got the gist of it anyway. But don’t forget that it’s only a cognition, this place reflects reality, but it exists entirely separate.”

“So kinda like a photograph?” Ryuji pondered.

“In a sense: if that helps you understand it.” Morgana responded, pushing open a large wooden door and ushering the pair inside. He gestured to an air vent in the corner of the room.

“You should be able to get out to the entrance from there.”

“Thanks Morgana, we owe you one.” Akira acknowledged.

“Is that so?” he purred “I’ll be sure to call in that favour. Don’t you forget!”

* * *

“Yeah, that matches everything I remember…” Ryuji mumbled.

The school day had come to an end. Akira and Ryuji stood near the entrance to the school.

“So, does that mean it was all real?” he added. “My ribs still hurt like hell, but some kind of other world like that makes no effin’ sense.”

“I’m not sure,” Akira said, “but if that really was some kind of alternate world, it doesn’t seem like the real Kamoshida knows anything about it. He acted as if we’d never met earlier today.”

“I’m so baffled.” Ryuji sighed.

“Senpai!”

Akira and Ryuji turned to the hallway where Sumire stood with a friendly wave.

“She a friend of yours?” Ryuji inquired.

“We’re heading home in the same direction.” Akira nodded.

“Daaaamn dude. You’ve been here half a day and you meet a girl as cute as tha- Ow!“

Akira elbowed Ryuji in the side as Sumire approached. Ryuji whispered discreetly.

“I need to crash but give me your details. I’ll text you tonight if I think of anything.”

Akira put his contact info into Ryuji’s phone before the blonde second year took off. Sumire stepped close to Akira with a curious look.

“Is he a friend of yours, Senpai?”

“Something like that.” Akira chuckled.

The pair began their walk to the station. Sumire chatted about her day, but Akira’s mind was plagued with thoughts of the strange castle. Akira and Ryuji had been in the other world until the afternoon; he knew Sumire would question it, but he couldn’t think of any possible excuse. He didn’t want to lie to Sumire, but he couldn’t possibly tell her the truth. Akira wasn’t sure he believed it himself, let alone telling someone who hadn’t seen it with their own eyes.

“Senpai?” Sumire looked up at Akira with a concerned look. He’d been completely absorbed in his own thoughts.

“Sorry, you were talking about the girl you met?”

“Y-yeah, Suzui-san.” Sumire nodded. “She was really friendly, and she showed me around all of the P.E. facilities. That’s when…”

Sumire trailed off. Akira could tell the topic that weighed on her mind.

“Senpai, did something happen this morning?”

Akira feigned a blank expression, searching his mind for an excuse. Sumire pressed him further.

“I tried texting you at the station and during morning classes, but I couldn’t get through to you at all. I heard rumours from the second years that you skipped your classes, but then you suddenly appeared when I was talking to Mr. Kamoshida.”

Sumire’s eyes weighed on him with a look of worry and doubt.

“My phone ran out of battery when I was waiting at the station, and there was an old lady who collapsed. I went with the ambulance that took her to the hospital, but I couldn’t get back to school until the afternoon.”

Sumire remain focused on Akira as he peddled his story.

“A-and then, when I got to school, I heard some rumours about Kamoshida. When I saw you alone with him, I just felt this need to protect you.”

“O-oh!” Sumire yelped with a flustered expression.

Akira avoided her prying eyes at risk of her seeing through his story, but Sumire kept her gaze facing forward. The two walked in silence for a short while, before Sumire spoke once more.

“U-um, S-senpai?”

He turned to Sumire. The redhead’s eyes peered above her scarf, which completely covered her cheeks. Even so, Akira could tell she was red with embarrassment.

“Do you t-think you c-could… Can you h-h…”

Sumire stammered nervously, desperately avoiding Akira’s inquisitive eyes.

“Could you h-h-hold my hand…? L-like earlier?”

Sumire shut her eyes with mortification, her skin flushed a bright red. Akira smiled warmly before he wrapped her hand in his own.

“Eep!” she yelped.

Akira gently massaged the back of her palm with his thumb, leaning in close to her shoulder.

They walked side-by-side in a content silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I played around with the order of scenes through Akira and Sumire's perspectives a bit in this one, hope it didn't make things too difficult to follow! I'm glad to finally get Ryuji involved too, he's easily one of my favourite of the core characters in P5 and he's a lot of fun to write as well.
> 
> Also, I wanted to say thank you again to every single person who's checked out this story. At the moment it's had just over 1300 hits, which is honestly 1300 more than I ever expected, let alone the kudos and the kind comments people have left. I'm having a blast writing this story, but the continued enthusiasm and joy of its readers is incredibly motivating.
> 
> Anyway, I don't want to sound like a broken record. Notes time! Not many this time around:
> 
> \- One of the interactions I was most keen on exploring with this story was the Shiho-Sumire relationship. They both seem similar in regards to temperament and personality, but with so many characters in the game talking about how Shiho was outgoing and sociable before the Kamoshida incidents, I wanted to see what kind of dynamic I could create between them.
> 
> \- I realised that I've labelled the story as 'Mature', primarily because I'm going for a more heavy, dramatic tone than some other stories I've had a quick look at on AO3 (not that there's anything wrong with more light-hearted stories!). I plan to explore some pretty heavy themes and stories later on, and of course there's already the more mature themes in the game to begin with, but I was wondering whether this rating was applicable. I'd welcome any counsel!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second day of the semester at Shujin Academy begins. Akira and Ryuji return to the Metaverse. The infiltration of Kamoshida's Palace uncovers a sinister secret.

Akira parted ways with Sumire at Shibuya with a wave before shuffling into the crammed subway carriage bound for Yongen-jaya. He stood rocking back and forth among the crowd, absorbed in his thoughts and comforted by the music playing in his ears.

Despite all his efforts, Akira couldn’t dismiss the experiences of the last twenty-four hours as some bizarre dream. The Velvet Room was one thing, but to then find himself captive in a world of distorted cognition and awaken to his Persona was all the proof he needed. Even in the midst of a dull Tokyo commute, he could still sense Arsène; the manifestation of his rebellious will, simmering in his heart and mind like an open flame.

It wasn’t until he stepped through the door to Leblanc that he was pulled back into reality.

Sojiro sat behind the counter with a crossword: the sight was familiar, but the furious scowl on his face was not.

“I got a call from your school… Anything you’ve got to say?”

Akira shrunk beneath his guardian’s authoritative stare. He knew Sojiro would see right through the excuse he’d spun for Sumire. He frowned apologetically.

“Won’t happen again. Sorry, Sakura-san.”

“Just… go to your damn classes and stop causing me trouble.” Sojiro sighed. “I don’t have time to chase you around Tokyo if your teachers call me asking where you are.”

Akira stayed silent through Sojiro’s lecturing. At the very least, it seemed as if Sojiro hadn’t heard about his confrontation with Kamoshida outside of the P.E. faculty office.

Sojiro’s phone chimed with a call; he held it aloft beside his ear. The Trickster watched Sojiro’s intensity soften and fade as he responded to the voice on the other line.

“Hey… Yeah I’m closing up shop now, I’ll see you shortly.”

He turned back to Akira, covering the phone’s receiver with his hand.

“Just head upstairs and go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Akira briskly ascended the creaky steps and collapsed onto his stiff mattress. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d felt so physically exhausted, but his mind remained alert and racing with questions.

He rummaged around the inside pocket of his coat for the diary. Throwing it onto the nearby desk, he took a seat and scribed everything he could remember: the meeting with Igor and the twin wardens, Kamoshida’s bizarre castle, the creature who called himself Morgana.

Akira couldn’t help but laugh aloud as his pen raced across the page. The whole thing was impossible to believe, but he thought back to what Morgana had said about cognition. Perhaps it would be simpler to just accept everything he had seen as it appeared; to change his own understanding and cognition of the world around him.

That’s the reasoning he supplied himself with as he finalised his account in the diary. With his due diligence completed, Akira finally changed out of his school uniform and crawled back into bed with a heavy sigh. It didn’t take long for the weight of his eyelids to overwhelm him.

* * *

Until after what seemed like only a fleeting moment, his eyes opened once more to the hazy sight of the Velvet Room.

The clashing sound of metal rung from the bars as one of the wardens thrashed against the cell with her baton. Rousing him from his stupor, Akira stumbled off of the prison bed, once more dressed in the tattered prisoner uniform.

“Our master wishes to speak with you, you would do well to take his words to heart.” Justine said in a monotone voice.

Akira’s eyes shifted to the man seated at the desk with a suspicious stare.

“You have awakened to the power of your Persona… You are finally ready to begin your rehabilitation.” Igor chuckled eerily. Akira furrowed his brow.

“What do you mean? None of this makes any sense.”

“You do not need to understand everything for the time being. But know that you will be training the power of your Persona: the mask you wear to guard your heart when confronting worldly matters.”

Igor tapped his hand on the table rhythmically as he spoke.

“It would seem you have begun to utilise the Metaverse Navigator I have bestowed unto you as well. It will allow you to travel freely between reality and Palaces, making it a most essential tool for a thief such as yourself.”

The eerie man’s cryptic riddles frustrated Akira, but gradually he started to come to a clearer understanding on Igor’s ramblings. Kamoshida’s Castle was a Palace, and the Metaverse Navigator could only be the strange app that had appeared on his phone.

At least he knew he could no longer dismiss any of this as a dream or hallucination.

“And what’s your role in all of this?” Akira retorted. “What do you have to gain from giving me these powers?”

Caroline thrashed her baton into the cell bars once more, making Akira jump back in shock.

“How dare you show such disobedience in our master’s presence, Inmate!”

Igor simply chuckled, locking his bony fingers together once more.

“You have nothing to fear, I simply wish to observe your rehabilitation.” Igor smiled, shirking the question, but Akira pressed him further.

“You keep using that word, ‘rehabilitation’, but what do you mean by-“

A prison bell sounded out around the Velvet Room, interrupting Akira’s interrogation. He felt a drowsiness cloud his thoughts and sight.

“It is time for you to return to the world of reality. Rest well, Inmate.” Justine informed him cordially.

Akira fell back onto the bed, the dreamy vision of the Velvet Room dissipating from his sight.

* * *

Light trickled in through the open window as Akira awoke the following morning. He could already hear Sojiro bustling around the café downstairs as he tidied his hair and donned his school uniform.

Akira smiled as he spotted the plate of curry waiting for him on the counter. Sojiro had obviously been angry with him the day before, but he appreciated the gesture Sojiro had made by preparing breakfast for him.

“Should I expect any more unwelcome calls today?” Sojiro grumbled, his back turned to Akira as he refilled a jar of coffee beans on the back shelf.

“No. You won’t have to worry about a thing.” Akira said with conviction, shovelling the last of the curry onto his spoon.

“I hope you’re right for your sake, kid.”

Sojiro said nothing more as Akira threw his bag over one shoulder and left for the station. He travelled to school in contented isolation, oblivious to the comings and goings of passersby until he overheard the jeers of a pair of Shujin students at the train platform in Shibuya.

“Isn’t that the honour student? The girl over there with the red hair, the thin one.” A gossipy first-year whispered.

“The one with the long hair?” responded a sleepy male student.

It didn’t take long for Akira to confirm his suspicions. Further down the platform, Sumire stood patiently waiting for the train. He slipped through the busy crowds to stand beside her.

“Fancy seeing you here.” He teased.

Sumire turned and looked up at Akira with a flustered look of surprise.

“S-Senpai! I wasn’t expecting to see you this morning.”

“I was surprise you didn’t text me about travelling into school together.” Akira noted. Sumire looked away with a shy frown.

“I-I didn’t want to impose…” she sighed, her voice quietly trailing off.

Akira winced. He could understand her social anxiety, but it still pained him to hear Sumire speak with so little regard for herself. He slipped his hand into hers and gave her a gentle squeeze.

“A-ah!” Sumire blushed.

“I enjoy spending time with you Sumire, please don’t feel like you’re unwelcome.” Akira insisted, his eyes fixed on hers.

Sumire opened her mouth to fabricate a self-deprecating protest, but eventually shrunk into her scarf with a bashful nod. She held Akira’s hand close.

Akira’s ears pricked up, and he turned over his shoulder towards the pair from Shujin. They avoided his eyeline with a poor excuse for acting. The Trickster brushed it off, paying them no mind.

As they shuffled onto the busy train carriage, Akira shepherded Sumire towards an open seat hurriedly. He stood in the middle of the carriage with a tight grip on a handhold above him as they spoke.

“I visited Kasumi with my dad yesterday…” Sumire began. “She’s started her physical rehabilitation, but I think she’s struggling a lot. She insisted that we watch her session, but all I could focus on was the way her legs were shaking as she tried to stand up.”

Akira listened attentively with sympathetic eyes as Sumire spoke.

“She’s working so hard for our dream; even after the accident.” Sumire sulked, her voice tinged with guilt. “I can’t fall behind.”

“She’s a strong girl.” Akira agreed. “But don’t forget that you and Shinichi are part of what makes her so strong. She can keep her spirits up with you two supporting her. And they’ll always be there to support you as well.”

Sumire nodded with a sombre smile.

“You’re right, thanks Senpai…”

Akira returned the smile.

“What’s your day like today?” he asked.

“I’ve got regular classes in the morning and then training in the afternoon, so I’m meeting Suzui-senpai for lunch. Then I-”

Sumire’s face brightened with an idea.

“Oh! Senpai, you should come and eat lunch with us! Suzui-senpai is really nice, and her best friend is in your class.”

“I suppose it’s the least I can do after I disappeared on you yesterday. I’ll find you in the cafeteria then?” Akira chimed.

“Y-yes!” Sumire affirmed happily.

As the train neared Aoyama-Itchome, Sumire stood up. The platform was still a few minutes away, but she spoke gently to an elderly woman standing nearby.

“Excuse me, would you like to sit down?”

The gray-haired woman beamed with a sincere smile. As Sumire stepped aside to allow the woman to sit, Akira was pushed back by a commuter who weaved towards the seat and sat down in her place. He feigned exhaustion and pretended to yawn before Sumire could offer any protest.

Akira stared him down with an angry glower, but the lady waved her hand insisting the pair from Shujin do nothing.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be of any help.” Sumire pouted.

“Don’t worry, dearie, _you_ have nothing to apologise for.” The older woman said pointedly, the target of her ill-will made more than obvious. “Your kindness is more than enough.”

Sumire smiled sweetly, as did Akira at the interaction. The interaction was a fleeting one, but it warmed his heart to see Sumire handle it so gracefully.

* * *

Akira’s second morning at Shujin was, thankfully, much less eventful than the first. His morning classes dragged on at a slow pace, but Akira kept his head down and avoided any trouble.

Unfortunately, it was easier said than done. The rumour mill of Shujin Academy was in overdrive, and Akira was the hot topic. He felt eyes on his back as he walked down the corridor to his next class.

“I heard he attacked Mr. Kamoshida in the hallway…”

“No way! Why did they let someone so violent into the school!”

Akira turned his head towards the source of the hushed tones, but it was impossible to distinguish which of the many pairs of eyes had whispered the accusation. The students inside his classroom weren’t much better

“I heard he skipped morning classes because he was selling drugs…”

“Don’t look him in the eyes or he might pull a knife on you!”

Akira breathed a heavy sigh, doing his best to ignore the slander. Fortunately, it didn’t last much longer when Mr. Ushimaru stepped into the classroom with a foul temper.

“Alright you runts, quiet down and sit down. I’m your social studies teacher, so it falls to me to teach you the rules of society. And by the sounds of it, some of you need that lesson really drilled into you, so if you’re tired of being disappointments you better clean out those ears of yours.”

Akira nearly scoffed aloud. It was one thing for a teacher to insinuate the same kind of ridiculous rumours as the students, but to then insult his class outright…

His thoughts were interrupted by a buzz from his phone. Akira unlocked it to find a text from Ryuji.

_Yo, you hearing all these crazy rumours about you?_

Akira sensed an opportunity for some entertainment. He typed his response swiftly.

_Which ones?_

_I’ve heard people saying you carry a knife around, that  
you attacked a student after school, one kid even said  
you were some mafia boss’s heir. It’s such bullshit._

Akira chuckled, curious as to what the Shujin student body would come up with next. Perhaps exotic goods smuggling or grand larceny?

_More importantly, I bet it was Kamoshida who ran his  
mouth. You remember that weird place from yesterday?_

_Yeah, I do. You thinking what I’m thinking?_

_That we should go check it out again? I was thinking about  
what that cat said, and I think I realised something, but I  
won’t know for sure unless we go back._

_Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you after school?_

_Yeah, meet me in the alley._

_Oh! And don’t worry, I brought something for self-defense._

The last response made Akira a little nervous, unsure as to what exactly Ryuji meant, but he didn’t have time to speculate.

“Kurusu, are you listening!?”

Mr. Ushimaru bellowed at him with a tempestuous shout, reeling back his arm and throwing a piece of chalk towards him. It hit him square in the forehead before he had a chance to react.

“Hmph, maybe that’ll teach you to doze off in my class!”

Akira massaged the mark on his head while the students around the classroom went into a frenzy of hushed conversation.

* * *

As the lesson came to a close, Akira picked up his bag to hurry out of the classroom. Before he could stand to his feet, the blonde student in front of him turned around in her chair.

“Hey, you got a sec?”

Akira recognised her as the girl who accepted a lift from Kamoshida the day before: Ann Takamaki.

“Sorry, I’m meeting someone for lunch.”

“I know,” she nodded, “Shiho, right? Come on, we’ll go together.”

The pair walked side by side through the busy Shujin corridors, flanked by excitable whispers.

“So, what’s with you?” Ann queried. “First you don’t show up for morning classes and have Kawakami make some poor excuse for you, and now all of these crazy rumours?”

“What makes you think they’re rumours” Akira said, maintaining a guarded front against the girl’s suspicions.

“Come on, you really mean to tell me you’re carrying a knife around ready to attack any student that looks at you funny?” Ann said incredulously. “You’re not the only student to find themselves on the wrong end of Shujin’s rumour frenzy.”

Akira stayed silent. It’s not like he could tell Ann about the Metaverse or Kamoshida’s Palace, even if the truth were stranger than fiction.

Ann’s expression turned more tense.

“What’s up with you and Kamoshida? I know what happened between you two outside of the P.E. faculty office.”

Akira turned to her in surprise. Ann stood out like a sore thumb among the sea of black hair, and he hadn’t noticed anyone else around.

“Shiho saw you.” Ann elaborated. “Said you grabbed him by the wrist when he tried to touch a friend of yours.”

Akira paused, choosing his words carefully.

“I was worried that he would do something that he shouldn’t.”

Ann studied his face carefully but seemed content enough with his answer.

“And did he?”

“Not yet…” Akira mumbled.

They stepped into the cafeteria, spotting Sumire and Shiho already seated at a table. Akira pulled a chair beside Sumire while Ann took the seat next to Shiho, joining their ongoing discussion.

Sumire chatted gleefully with chopsticks in hand, gradually making her way through a delicately prepared bento box. The lunch was big by normal standards, and Ann made note of such.

“I’m amazed you have the appetite for so much food Sumire. I’m not the kind of person to watch their figure much, but even I would struggle to eat all of that.”

“Oh, this is quite standard for me. I have a high metabolism, and I need to make sure I have a lot of energy for my gymnastics.”

“Maybe you should try gymnastics too, Ann. You’ve got the perfect build for it.” Shiho teased.

“O-oh, no. I’m way too clumsy.” Ann deflected, but Sumire insisted with a child-like excitement.

“Shiho’s totally right! You should try some basic routines at least; you might really enjoy it.”

Akira smiled. The brief moment of high school normality was a welcome respite after the events of yesterday, but the whispers of other Shujin students around the cafeteria grated on his nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

“Kurusu-san?”

Akira jolted to attention, recognising Shiho’s look of concern.

“Try not to let the rumours get to you. You seem quiet, but Sumire holds you in such high regard: I know you can’t be anything like people have been saying you are.”

Shiho smiled with a gentle elegance, breaking Akira’s icy expression. He sighed and returned Shiho’s smile.

“That’s nice of you to say, but I hope I can prove it to you with my own actions.” Akira said, running a hand up past his hair to adjust a stray lock.

“You already have.” Shiho beamed.

“Some of these rumours are honestly absurd though…” Sumire said, puffing out her cheeks with frustration. “Some of them are so farfetched, I don’t know how anyone could believe them.”

“Well…” Shiho looked down, turning a strand of hair around her finger. “There was one rumour I was curious about.”

“That’s unlike you Shiho.” Ann said with astonishment and wonder in equal volume. “Don’t leave us in suspense.”

Sumire leaned in with curiosity, and even Akira glanced at Shiho awaiting her revelation, sipping from a bottle of water.

“U-uh…” Shiho mumbled with a cheeky smirk. “Well, I heard someone say that the first-year honours student and the second-year delinquent were… dating.”

Akira choked on the water in his throat with a cough, thrown off by Shiho’s unexpected inquiry. He turned to Sumire, whose mouth was agape with shock.

“You too _are_ awfully close…” Ann teased, grinning from ear to ear.

“I think you make a lovely couple!” Shiho added innocuously, though Akira could see through her false naiveté. Though he had to admit, Shiho had a certain boldness to her that he couldn’t help but feel inspired by. _Two can play at that game_ , he thought to himself.

“I-It’s not- We’re-“ Sumire stammered, until she yelped in surprise as Akira wrapped his arm around Sumire giving her a light squeeze on her shoulder.

“S-Senpai!” Sumire exasperated, drowning in embarrassment. She pulled on the ends of her scarf to entirely cover her face

“Does that answer your question?” Akira smirked with a sly wink, eliciting another flustered sound from Sumire muffled by her scarf.

The two second year girls giggled loudly, Shiho almost bringing herself to tears with laughter. Sumire peered out over the top of her scarf with a timid glare.

“I didn’t think you could be so mean Suzui-senpai…”

The four students laughed candidly, and Akira smiled peacefully. The prying eyes of the other students were more bearable with the support of his friends.

As the lunch break came to an end, Sumire and Shiho stood from the table with a wave. Sumire turned to Akira inquisitively.

“Shall I meet you outside the front entrance after school, Senpai?”

Akira halted his instinctive response with a heavy regret. He remembered his agreement with Ryuji; if investigating Kamoshida’s Palace in the Metaverse could help him protect Sumire in reality, he couldn’t ignore it.

“I’m sorry Sumire, I’ve got plans after school. Next time, for sure.” he apologised.

“O-oh, that’s okay Senpai…” Sumire mumbled, disguising her disappointment poorly. “Well then, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Sumire returned to Shiho as the pair left for the practice building. Akira eyed at the icon for the Metaverse Navigator on his phone.

His mind was already made up.

* * *

Akira skulked into the alley outside of Shujin Academy, where Ryuji was waiting patiently with one foot resting on the wall. He grinned as Akira approached.

“Yo, good to see you.” Ryuji smiled. “I was just trying to figure out how to get back to that weird castle.”

“That won’t be a problem.” Akira smirked, holding his phone up with the Metaverse Navigator open. Ryuji took the phone from his hands and inspected the app.

“Dude…! What’s up with this, some kind of navigation app? Kamoshida’s name is listed here and everything.” Ryuji pondered, swiping and tapping on the phone screen.

“It has a search history,” Akira affirmed. “so this has to be our ticket into Kamoshida’s heart.”

“For real? Alright, let’s do this!”

Ryuji raised his finger to begin the shift into the Metaverse, but Akira stopped him, quickly swiping the phone from his hand.

“Hold on, you said you had something you needed to confirm once we got there.”

“Oh right, I totally forgot. You remember that weird cat saying that the castle was like a reflection of the school?”

Akira nodded, prompting Ryuji to continue his train of thought.

“Well those other people in that dungeon were bugging me, like I’d seen them before, and then it occurred to me that they must be other people from Shujin!”

Akira raised a hand to his chin in thought. The logic made sense to him: if there was another version of Kamoshida inside the castle, it stood to reason that there would be cognitive versions of others as well. Perhaps even cognitive versions of himself and Ryuji existed somewhere inside the castle.

“So, you think we can look for people in that dungeon and ask them about Kamoshida?”

“Uh, yeah.” Ryuji nodded. “Admittedly I didn’t think that far ahead, but I know we’ll find something if we check it out again.”

Akira shrugged, holding the phone up once more. He raised an eyebrow to Ryuji.

“You ready to go?”

The blonde student nodded eagerly. Akira pressed the button on the app.

_Now travelling to… Castle of Lust._

After a brief, familiar dizziness, the two students found themselves facing the vast castle once more.

“We made it back!” Ryuji gasped. “That means everything that happened yesterday wasn’t just some crazy dream.”

Akira smirked. It seems he was the only one to have been haunted in his sleep by a strange man with a long nose. He pondered how the blonde boy would react in such a situation, until Ryuji yelped loudly.

“Dude, your clothes!”

Akira looked down at his hand, gloved in bright red fabric. The rest of his clothing had transformed as well, and he could sense Arsène beneath the surface of his mask.

“Aargh… This still makes no effin’ sense…” Ryuji groaned with a sweeping kick of his leg, until a loud ‘pssst!’ gripped the pair’s attention.

Morgana’s bright blue eyes stared them down from behind a nearby pillar.

“Hey, you two. Keep it down!”

“It’s that cat again!”

“Mrgrr, say that again and I’ll leave you here alone!” Morgana hissed.

“We need your help.” Akira asserted, reluctant to waste time breaking up an argument between the two.

“Follow me,” Morgana gestured with a nod, “there’s a safe room nearby, we should be able to talk there.”

Morgana hurried to the vent through which they had previously escaped the castle.

* * *

The team compiled their information: Morgana explained what he knew about the Palace layout, the gaps in cognition known as safe rooms, and the Shadows that made up Kamoshida’s guard. Akira and Ryuji briefed Morgana on their objective.

“So, let me get this straight…” Ryuji grumbled. “This place exists because Kamoshida has some twisted view on what the school is?”

“Correct, it’s a world where one’s distorted desires have materialised.” Morgana lectured. “But you do know that those people in the dungeon aren’t the real people from your world, right? They’re just made up from the cognitions of the palace ruler.”

“That doesn’t matter!” Ryuji insisted.

“Ryuji’s right.” Akira nodded. “If they can give us any insight into why Kamoshida sees this palace as a castle, it might help us take him down.”

“Well come on then, let’s get going” Ryuji hurried.

“H-hold on you idiot! You don’t have a Persona like he does.”

“That’s no issue,” Ryuji grinned “I came prepared this time.”

Ryuji reached behind his back, brandishing a menacing pistol. Akira’s eyes turned wide, until Ryuji waved it around carelessly.

“W-well, it’s only a model so all it does is make sound, but I can catch them by surprise while you guys hit ‘em with your Persona things! Or something…”

Morgana planted a paw in his face.

“Let’s just get going.” Akira shrugged.

The team began their infiltration. Morgana took the lead, slipping from cover to cover to remain undetected by the Palace’s frequent patrols. Akira followed suit, keeping Ryuji close behind: Morgana was capable of healing, and Ryuji had brought some medicine, but he knew they would have to conserve their strength if they were going to reach the castle’s depths.

“Hey, uh, does this place seem… different to you?” Ryuji queried.

“The Shadows have been more restless since you escaped yesterday, that much is expected. But its possible that something else has the palace ruler on high alert.”

“Would a confrontation with the real Kamoshida affect his Palace?” Akira asked Morgana, a theory already forming in his head.

“It would.” Morgana nodded. “This place reflects his cognition after all. If he feels like his position of superiority at the school is under threat, it would explain the tight security.”

Akira nodded silently. He didn’t regret his intervention between Kamoshida and Sumire for a second, but he would have to avoid further confrontation with Kamoshida at school.

“I get that…” Ryuji mumbled. “But something still seems different. Like the whole place feels more… creepy?”

“Hold up!” Morgana hissed.

A pair of guards convened by the door to the dungeons. Morgana held a paw to his mouth with a hushing gesture.

“How are the preparations coming along?” one guard queried.

“Excellently! We have designated slaves for execution or exile to ensure everything is in order for the maiden’s arrival. King Kamoshida will claim her as his prize without fail.”

Ryuji elbowed Akira with a confused scowl.

“What are they talking ab-“ he whispered, but Morgana silenced him with a forceful shush.

“Hm!? Who’s there!?” a guard yelled. The plate armour melted away as the pair of Shadows transformed into spectral, pumpkin creatures with lanterns held up. They scanned the area for intruders.

“Frizzy Hair! Fire the gun!” Morgana ordered.

Akira swiped the gun from Ryuji’s loose grip and pulled on the trigger. A flash from the muzzle was matched by a loud bang as a bullet pierced the creature’s head. It exploded in a flash of shadowy mist, giving Morgana the opportunity to cleave through the second with his oversized scimitar.

“H-holy shit!” Ryuji gasped. “I thought that was just a model!”

“It is a model.” Morgana grinned “But to anybody who doesn’t know that, it looks just like a real gun. This is a world created by cognition after all.”

“That’s good to keep in mind…” Akira nodded. “But what were those guards talking about?”

“They said something about a maiden.” Ryuji added.

“We may find more clues further in, they mentioned the prisoners after all.” Morgana suggested.

“Then what are we waiting around for!?” Ryuji huffed impatiently. “Let’s go!”

* * *

Infiltrating the castle dungeon was slow and steady: slipping past the guards was more difficult in the underground corridors, and while the pistol Ryuji brought with him was effective, constantly using it risked alerting every nearby guard to their position.

Akira dispelled of another Shadow as the trio reconvened by a large wooden door adorned with a banner.

“King Kamoshida’s Training Hall of Love?” Ryuji read aloud with confusion in his voice. “What the hell is this?”

Before Akira could reply, they heard a gut-wrenching scream from up ahead, followed by cries and sobbing. Ryuji dashed through the door on impulse.

“You idiot!” Morgana yelled. “Wait up!”

Akira and Morgana followed swiftly. Ryuji stared down at a volleyball court where students dressed in Shujin P.E. uniforms were subject to whippings and abuse. He stared in furious disbelief, utterly lost for words.

“These are… Kamoshida’s students?” Akira speculated.

“Yeah…” Ryuji muttered through gritted teeth; his suspicions confirmed. “They’re members of the volleyball team, the one that Kamoshida runs.”

Ryuji took out his phone, cursing under his breath. He turned to Akira.

“Your camera working?”

Akira checked, but as he’d feared, everything in front of the camera lens appeared black and hazy, as if they were in complete darkness.

“Dammit…!” Ryuji yelled. “There are rumours about Kamoshida using physical punishments, and I thought this would finally be the proof necessary to take the bastard down.”

Morgana peered at the grotesque scene with a frown.

“I thought what the guards had been saying about slaves was just some aspect of his cognition, but based on this, Kamoshida must treat these students like slaves in reality... It’s unthinkable.”

“It’s no use… I’ll just have to remember their faces, then we can ask them in real life.” Ryuji resolved.

Ryuji stared with a determined gaze for a moment, before nodding firmly.

“Okay, let’s get out of here.”

Morgana and Ryuji turned back towards the dungeon entrance, but Akira paused in his pursuit of his comrades. His eyes wandered further down the underground corridor.

Pink cherry blossom petals had been scattered across the floor, down a stone staircase out of sight.

Akira whistled to alert Morgana and Ryuji, waving them over with a hand as he followed the trail of petals. He slowly stepped down the steps, finding himself in front of a fine door covered in petals, far more regal and ornate than any of the other prison cells they’d passed to get here.

“Don’t something like this seem out of place to you?” Ryuji pondered.

“It does…” Morgana agreed. “But the fact that it exists down here in the dungeon means that its purpose is the same.”

A chill raced down Akira’s spine; he didn’t need Morgana to clarify his meaning. He placed a hand on the metal ring handle and pushed the door open.

The room’s interior resembled the rooms they’d passed on the castle’s main floor. The room was furnished with antique furniture, the most noteworthy pieces being a prestigious vanity table with a delicate mirror and a grand king-sized bed in the centre of the room. Purple ribbons had been hung from the ceiling, and a beautiful violet dress had been draped over the bed.

The rest of the room was decorated elegantly. Bookshelves, tables and dressers stood upright against the walls. Ryuji and Morgana paced around the room, opening drawers, and inspecting the miscellaneous objects scattered on the surfaces.

Akira stepped towards the only feature of the room that stood out: a gaudy bust of Kamoshida’s head striking a maniacal grin. He grimaced as he reached his hand around the jaw, looking for a switch or lever like they had found previously during their infiltration of the dungeon.

And though he immediately wished he hadn’t, his suspicions were confirmed when the tyrant’s jaw dropped. A mechanical clanking sound began to shift from behind the walls.

“Yeargh!” Ryuji yelped, leaping back from a bookshelf as it receded into the wall and rotated. A new shelf appeared in its place. The same process repeated across the room: dressers shifted and receded into the wall with the rickety sound of turning gears.

Once the room had completed its transformation, Akira could do nothing but stare with wide eyes. A tempestuous rage swelled from within him.

The bookshelf that had been adorned with novels and scriptures was replaced with a crude shelf lined with metal hooks, vicious spikes, and a barbed, multi-tailed flail among other horrific tools and weapons.

A wardrobe filled with elegant dresses was lined with nothing but lingerie and provocative outfits. Morgana investigated a dresser with a look of horror: the drawer was filled to the brim with clamps, nails, rope and more.

“What the hell…?” Ryuji mumbled in disbelief.

“I don’t remember seeing anything like this before…” Morgana muttered.

“But what the hell is this!?” Ryuji shouted in anger. “This is disgusting, even for a bastard like him!”

Akira seethed with unbridled fury. The ribbons from the ceiling; the violet dress; the cherry blossom petals. It was clear to him in an instant.

“The maiden.” Akira said. “Someone new that Kamoshida is preparing for: someone he plans to deceive, like we were by this room, before unleashing his sick, twisted desires onto them. Before abusing them, just like the volleyball team.”

Ryuji stared at the Trickster with an anxious look of understanding as Akira reached towards the pillow with his hand.

He turned back to Ryuji and Morgana. Held in his shaking grip was a lock of dark, red hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I want to write happy scenes with Sumire, Shiho and other fun characters.  
> Also me: I heard you need more reason to hate Kamoshida.
> 
> In all seriousness, the shift in tone at the end of the chapter is why I'm keeping this story tagged as Mature for now. Still working on writing the Palace scenes in a way that's new and interesting without disregarding the exposition I've cut elsewhere. Had planned on including Ryuji's awakening here as well, but figured I'd save it for next chapter since this one started to get quite long. Shouldn't be too long a wait for the next chapter. As always, thanks for reading!
> 
> Some notes, though in this case they're questions:  
> \- I still find myself falling back on existing scenes from the game as a means of advancing the plot, which I guess shouldn't come as a surprise given that this story is a retelling, but I figured I'd ask you guys what you think of it. Do you like reading familiar scenes, like the train journey with Sumire or the discovery of the gun's use with Morgana and Ryuji, or do you prefer the new scenes? Again, existing scenes will also be a part of the story, but it'd be good to know what my audience is most interested in.
> 
> \- One of the ways I'm seeking to improve my writing is... by reading! So I wanted to ask what other fanfictions and stories you've all read that you really enjoyed to give me some starting points to check out. Bonus points if it features KaSumi.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryuji awakens to his Persona. Investigation into the rumours of Kamoshida’s abuse begin during the volleyball rally. The Phantom Thieves prepare to infiltrate the Castle of Lust.

“No effin’ way…” Ryuji stammered. There was only one person he knew whose hair matched the lock hanging from Akira’s hand. He stamped his foot with a furious shout.

“That sick son of a bitch! There’s not a single person at Shujin who’s safe from that creep!”

“So, the maiden those guards were talking about is someone you know?” Morgana queried, tilting his head with an anxious frown.

“A new first-year student on a gymnastics track.” Akira nodded. “Someone very dear to me.”

“And judging by this room, she’s in danger.” Morgana added.

“We won’t let that bastard lay a single finger on Sumire!” Ryuji yelled. “But if we can’t prove that he’s abusing the volleyball team, we won’t be able to take him down.”

“Actually, there _is_ another way.” Morgana contemplated. “A way we can stop Kamoshida’s abuse without any trace of our involvement.”

“For real?!” Ryuji gasped. “Well don’t just sit there, spit it out!”

Before Morgana could say another word, the group turned towards the door: heavy footsteps and the sound of clanging plate armour could be heard from the corridors outside.

“We’ve seen everything we need to down here.” Akira said bitterly. “We need to get out.”

“He’s right.” Morgana nodded. “Follow me and keep quiet!”

Morgana took the lead as the three thieves slipped out of the ghastly chamber. The creature’s small build allowed him to quietly scout the area, waving the two Shujin students forwards when there was an opening.

Their escape proceeded smoothly until they stepped out of the dungeon and back into the castle’s ground floor.

“Hmm? Intruders?!”

The trio turned towards the sinister voice behind them, just around a corner.

“How did they know we were h-“ Ryuji whispered, but Akira interrupted him with a finger over his lips. The Trickster noticed a torn petal on the ground behind them. He inspected the bottom of his shoe, confirming his suspicion: the three of them had carried petals with them in the midst of their escaping, alerting the guards to their position.

“Take Ryuji to the main hall and find a way out, I’ll take care of the guard!” Akira barked an order in a hushed tone. Morgana nodded, scurrying further down the corridor with Ryuji trailing just behind.

Akira faced back towards the voice and planted his feet, listening to the guard’s footsteps with a hand raised to his mask.

A pair of knights turned the corner with weapons drawn, recognising Akira in an instant.

“You wretch!” one of the Shadows snarled. “You’ll regret defiling the maiden’s chamber!”

Akira ignored the hollow threats, tearing the mask from his face as the spectral blue flames danced across his hand. He roared with a feral anger.

“Arsène! Tear them apart!”

The ghostly form of the pillager of twilight unleashed a fierce cleave. Ripples of shadowy energy ripped through the Shadows like a knife through butter, sundering the thick plate armour and killing the Shadows in an instant.

Akira’s mask returned as he panted for breath. His heightened emotional augmented Arsène’s power considerably, but he could feel the exhaustion creeping in.

Breaking into a quick stride, he raced through the gaudy corridors to catch up to Morgana and Ryuji.

* * *

In the central foyer, Morgana slashed at the two-horned beast as it charged towards Ryuji, cutting the shadowy creature down as it crumpled to the ground. A second beast charged in, but Morgana’s Persona Zorro formed a gust of wind to repel its attack.

“Shit, what do we do?” Ryuji panted, sprawled out defenceless on his back.

“This is looking dire…” Morgana wheezed. Zorro’s power was quickly running out, and the medicine Ryuji had brought with him was depleted. If the fighting continued, there was no way they would survive.

Another Bicorn dragged its heel and lowered its head, ready to charge in, until Akira leapt to Morgana’s side with the pistol drawn. He fired two shots into the creature’s skull, scattering it into a black mist.

“What’s the situation?” Akira asked breathlessly.

“We can escape through there,” Morgana pointed towards a nearby side room, “but we’re surrounded and there’s no opening.”

“Oho… Leaving so soon?” A leering voice purred. Akira’s blood boiled as he turned to the decadent staircase. Marching down the velveted steps with a large, gold-plated shadow was Kamoshida.

“I’d hoped to catch a little dove in my net, but it seems I’ve snared a flock of pitiful hawks instead. No matter. This is _my_ castle after all; everything here belongs to me.” Kamoshida taunted.

“Shut it, you disgusting perv! We know what you’re up to, and about the physical abuse! You’re going down.” Ryuji spat in response, stamping his foot on the ground with an intense stare.

“So you say Sakamoto, but you’re powerless to stop me.” snarled the garish king extending his arms in a display of power. “Instead you rely on these knaves to carry your dead weight, just as you did in the track team.”

“That’s not true…!” Ryuji winced, Kamoshida’s slander clearly striking a nerve.

“And you…” Kamoshida turned to Akira with a venomous glare. “You need to learn the natural hierarchy of the world you insolent pest. You _dared_ to make an embarrassment out of me, and I’ll be sure you come to regret it. That delicate little friend of yours will be a suitable payment!”

Akira’s nostrils flared and the teen grit his teeth. His grip on the pistol tightened as Kamoshida’s Shadow cackled, before clicking his fingers with an authoritative shout.

“Finish them off!”

Akira’s back shivered as he noticed a pair of apparitions behind them.

“Morgana!” he yelled, springing into action. Akira discarded the mask as Arsène unleashed a cursed bolt at a nearby Bicorn. Morgana follow-up with a quick vertical slash but was tackled by another opponent as he disengaged.

The Trickster turned to fire upon Morgana’s assailant, but a powerful headbutt winded him as he staggered to his knees. He attempted to pull himself back to his feet, but a heavy gold sabaton on his back pinned him to the floor.

“All bark and no bite… How disappointing.” Kamoshida crowed. “And as expected, the ‘Track Traitor’ is paralysed with fear: too weak and feeble to resist!”

Ryuji sulked beneath Kamoshida’s sinister snarl, glaring at the sickening king with frustration.

“What’s wrong Sakamoto?” Kamoshida mocked. “Worried I’ll break your other leg as well? You should be, the school would consider it self-defense after all.”

“Ryuji!” Morgana cried out, silenced by a stamp from Kamoshida’s foot.

“Don’t you dare let this bastard win…!” Akira shouted.

Ryuji pulled himself to his feet, wavering as he regained his balance.

“You’re right…” Ryuji muttered. “Kamoshida took everything from me. The track team; my friends. You made my life hell, but I won’t let you do that to anyone else!”

Ryuji marched towards him with a vengeful glare. He screamed from the bottom of his lungs.

“I won’t let you ruin the lives of anyone else, putting them through misery while you parade around with that stupid smile on your face!”

A voice rang in his head.

**_You made me wait quite a while._ **

Suddenly, Ryuji fell to the ground: a devastating pain searing in his head. He clutched the sides of his skull in agony, flailing on the ground with a bloodcurdling scream. The convulsions racked his body as sweat and saliva spilled from his face.

Akira watched with wide eyes. Ryuji’s wild eyes bulged; his irises tinted an unnatural gold colour.

**_At long last we can form a pact._ **

**_Your name has been disgraced, pulled through the mud.  
So why not hoist the flag and wreak havoc?_ **

**_Wear the symbol of your rebellion with pride, and it  
will grant you the power you seek._ **

**_I am thou… Thou art I…_ **

**_The skull of rebellion is your flag henceforth!_ **

Rising from the ground, a metallic mask in the shape of a skull adorned Ryuji’s face.

Kamoshida cowered with panic, turning to his knight captain.

“Kill them, now!”

The regal knight raised his sword to execute Akira and Morgana, but Ryuji tugged at the mask fiercely. He wrenched it from his face with a single pull. Ryuji cried out in pain as blood spilled from his face, before his whole body was engulfed in an explosive blue fire.

Fierce wind swept through the foyer, pushing back the armoured knights and throwing Kamoshida to the ground. As the sudden gale subsided, Ryuji stood beneath his newly awakened Persona: a skeletal captain balanced on a pirate ship.

“Right on…” Ryuji gasped breathlessly. “Wassup, Persona!”

“Ryuji has a Persona as well!?” Morgana exclaimed in disbelief.

Akira had no intention of wasting the opportunity.

“Ryuji!” he shouted.

The blonde student nodded with a grin. Ryuji extended his hand towards Kamoshida and his cronies with an outstretched palm, as his Persona Captain Kidd mirrored his aim with a cannon on the end of his arm.

“Blast them away, Captain Kidd!”

Captain Kidd’s arm crackled with static energy as the barrel of the cannon glowed white hot. He released a powerful explosive blast of smoke and gunpowder, vaporising the group of Shadows immediately.

King Kamoshida fell to the ground, feebly hiding behind his garish cape. He whimpered as the smoke dissipated, revealing Akira with the pistol trained directly on the man’s forehead.

Akira shot daggers at the sobbing wretch in front of him as his finger tightened on the trigger.

“Don’t shoot him!” Morgana warned. “If you kill his Shadow, you’ll erase all of Kamoshida’s desires entirely. He’ll be no better than dead in reality.”

Akira kept his weapon in place, every fibre of his being urging him to execute the despicable excuse of a teacher. He swore under his breath, aiming the pistol towards the ceiling.

“Move!”

Akira fired a single bullet. It ricocheted off a metal clasp holding a grand chandelier aloft in the centre of the room. As the metal ring shattered, the chandelier fell to the ground with an incredible crash, whipping the air with candle embers and dustclouds.

The Trickster broke into a sprint, with Ryuji and Morgana in pursuit just behind him. He vaulted into the side room in which they had made their infiltration and boosted Ryuji up to the vent. Ryuji returned the favour with an extended hand, pulling Akira up on top of the bookshelf.

“Get to the front of the castle and escape back to reality, I’ll catch up with you.” Morgana instructed. Akira nodded, hurrying Ryuji ahead of him through the narrow vent.

As the pair of students returned to the drawbridge at the front of the castle, Akira pulled out his phone and loaded the Metaverse Navigator.

After a hasty input, Kamoshida’s Palace dissipated and the boys returned to the gloomy alley near Shujin Academy, dimmed by the shadow of the early evening.

“Oh man…” Ryuji gasped. “That was… intense…”

Akira tidied his hair in a vain attempt to hide his exhaustion, still riding high on the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

“I’m dead tired… What about you?” Ryuji mumbled.

“I could… use a nap…” Akira nodded between heavy breaths.

“No kidding.” Ryuji agreed. “I’m just glad we’ve got something to pin that asshole with. I remember the faces of the guys Kamoshida was treatin’ like slaves, so we can ask them about it at the volleyball rally tomorrow.”

Akira had forgotten all about the event. No doubt it was just an excuse for Kamoshida to stroke his ego and show off, but for the sake of their investigation it would ultimately prove useful. The whole school’s volleyball team would be there, after all.

“You reckon that cat’s going to be okay?” Ryuji wondered.

“I’m not a cat! I’m an expert Phantom Thief! Of course I’m okay!”

The pair looked around for the source of the high-pitched gloat in confusion. A black cat raced up a nearby pipe and leapt on top of a nearby dumpster.

Ryuji stared at Morgana incredulously.

“Wait, if you got out of the Metaverse on your own…” Ryuji pondered with a hand on his chin. “Does that mean you have a phone?!”

Akira slapped his face with the palm of his hand. Morgana didn’t entertain Ryuji with a response.

“Besides,” Ryuji continued. “I know you insist on the whole ‘not a cat’ thing, but you’re quite literally… a cat.”

Akira nodded in agreement, despite Morgana’s noisy protests.

“That’s not important!” Morgana huffed. “You want to stop Kamoshida, right? If you think talking to those students in reality will help, be my guest. But there’s a way we can stop Kamoshida’s abuse in the Metaverse.”

“Ugh… Can this wait until tomorrow?” Ryuji whined. “I’m beat.”

Morgana sighed with frustration.

“Come on, you can stay with me in the meantime.” Akira said, unzipping his school bag and clearing a space for Morgana to nestle in.

“Alright, I’m curious to see what kind of place you live in. I’ll be in your care!” Morgana replied cheerfully.

* * *

Fortunately, it hadn’t been difficult to convince Sojiro to allow Akira to keep a pet; the man had even shown an interest in naming him. And while Morgana had initially complained about the bare nature of the attic bedroom, his complaints were silenced when Sojiro pampered him with a plate of food.

The next day arrived swiftly. Akira typed a quick text to Sumire asking if the two planned on meeting up in Shibuya to travel in to school. His phone buzzed shortly afterwards, but Akira frowned when he noticed the message was from Ryuji.

_Did that nav app on your phone have some  
creepy red eyeball icon?_

_That’s the one._

_I found it on my phone too… I don’t even remember  
installing anything like it._

_It should be safe to use, just be careful._

_For sure man. Don’t forget we need to find dirt on  
Kamoshida today! See you at school._

Akira delayed his departure from Leblanc for as long as possible, but he received no text from Sumire. Anxious thoughts crept into his mind, but he dismissed them for the time being. Stowing Morgana in his school bag, Akira set out for the station.

The quiet journey to school made Akira uneasy, until he spotted Ann and Shiho walking down the pavement just ahead of him. He narrowed his focus when he spotted a black compression sleeve on Shiho’s leg: he feared it was more than a simple accident in training.

He approached the two girls, who recognised him and greeted Akira with a smile and a wave. Akira smiled cordially, but he couldn’t help but notice a light bruise above Shiho’s eye.

 _That’s right,_ he thought to himself. _Sumire isn’t the only one in danger._

“Have either of you seen Sumire since yesterday?” Akira asked

“She mentioned she has a gymnastics meet coming up soon, so she received permission to miss the volleyball rally today.” Shiho responded

Akira sighed with relief, prompting a giggle from Shiho.

“You really do care for Sumire a lot, huh?” she chuckled. “It’s very admirable.”

“I just want to make sure I’m there for her if she needs help.” Akira mused. “That goes for you two as well.”

Shiho smiled, while Ann’s face remained stiff with a tense, thoughtful expression.

* * *

After homeroom, all of the students went to the practice building to change into their P.E. uniforms before. There were four games scheduled: three games between the staff team led by Kamoshida versus teams of each year group from first to third year, then one final game between the teachers and Shujin’s main volleyball team.

It came as no surprise to Akira that Kamoshida starred in every game. What did surprise him, was his chance encounter with the tall P.E. teacher has he left his classroom. Kamoshida sneered a pathetic smile.

“Decided to show up to class today Kurusu? Perhaps you decided some physical activity would be a good way to release all of that aggression.”

Akira ignored Kamoshida’s petty comments, until the teacher pressed him further.

“It’s just a shame your friend Yoshizawa couldn’t make it today. I would’ve enjoyed seeing her on the volleyball court.”

Akira clenched his fist tightly in an effort to control his emotions towards Kamoshida. He reminded himself what had happened after his last intervention. That room in his Palace only appeared when Akira stopped him from laying a hand on Sumire; once she begun to represent something Kamoshida couldn’t have.

He didn’t regret his choice for a second, but he had to consider the impact he could have on Kamoshida’s Palace: it was already dangerous enough as is.

“Hmph.” Kamoshida shrugged, failing to get the rise out of Akira he was looking for. “You best watch yourself, punk. Any more trouble from you, and you’re gone.”

“Bastard…” Akira muttered under his breath as Kamoshida walked away. He hurried to the practice building, texting Ryuji as he walked.

_The first year’s match is starting soon, so we’ve got  
some time to find the volleyball members from the  
second and third years._

_We’ll need to be in the gym for the second year  
match though. What a load of bull._

_Let’s do as much as we can until then.  
Where shall I meet you?_

_One of the third years I remember was a guy  
called Aki Yamagata in 3-C. Swing by the classroom._

Once he’d changed into his red P.E. uniform, Akira slipped into the classroom Ryuji had mentioned. With most students around the courtyard and practice building for the rally, the classroom was almost empty. Ryuji and Aki were talking next to the chalkboard; the only other student was a girl with brown, shoulder length hair transcribing notes at a desk.

Aki himself wore the same red P.E. uniform, but a thick white bandage was wrapped around his head. Even without the knowledge of the abuse they’d witnessed in the Metaverse, the injury was obviously far more serious than could be reasonably passed off as a training accident.

“Come on man,” Ryuji insisted, “I know something’s up, a-and I ain’t going to tell anyone that I heard it from you.”

“Do you have proof?” Aki replied despondently. Ryuji stammered unconvincingly, and the third year through his hands up and walked away.

“Stop spreading nonsense rumours then, Sakamoto. You’ll only make things worse.”

Ryuji sighed with defeat as Akira approached, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. The blonde boy shook his head.

“He won’t talk, none of ‘em will.” Ryuji grumbled. “They’re all afraid of Kamoshida.”

“I can’t say I blame them, given what they’re going through…” Akira sighed. “Who’s next?”

“There’s one more guy in the class next door. We can catch him if we’re quick.”

“Lead the way.” Akira nodded.

Ryuji and Akira exited the classroom, unaware of the discerning brown eyes that had risen from a textbook to track the pair.

* * *

Luck was not on their side: none of the volleyball members they’d spoken to had been willing to corroborate Kamoshida’s abuse. Forced to spectate the second-year volleyball match, Ryuji sat cross-legged in the gym with a foul temper. Akira sat alongside him with his bag in between the two. He tried formulating a new plan until a black furry head poked out from his bag.

“No luck talking to the students in reality then?” Morgana purred. Ryuji yelped in surprise.

“Wha!? You brought Morgana with you to school?”

“What was I supposed to do?” Akira shrugged. “My guardian won’t let him stay at the café, and besides, he’s more useful to us here.”

“I guess you’ve got a point…” said Ryuji.

“You’ve not forgotten what I was saying in the Palace, right? There’s a way you can stop Kamoshida without him ever knowing you were involved.”

Akira sat upright, turning to Ryuji who shared his expression.

He _had_ forgotten; both of them had.

“Alright,” Akira nodded, “what’s your plan Morg-“

His question was interrupted by a loud crash. One of the second-year students fell to the ground hard as a volleyball ricocheted off his face. The dark-haired boy was unconscious before he hit the ground, as spectators cried out with shocked gasps.

“Mishima-kun!”

“Is he okay?”

“Mr. Kamoshida’s spike is insane!”

The culprit ducked underneath the net, crouching alongside the boy to offer paltry aid.

“Someone take him to the nurse’s office.”

A pair of students carried Mishima off of the court and shared his weight among them. Once they’d exited the gymnasium, Kamoshida returned to his usual self, quickly discarding any sign of concern for the boy’s wellbeing.

“Alright, let’s continue with the game! We’ll need one of the second years to fill in for Mishima.”

Kamoshida feigned a performance as he scanned the gym. In truth, he’d already picked his new target.

“Kurusu, come and take his position.”

Akira furrowed his brow as he stared down Kamoshida. He wasn’t entirely sure what the foul teacher was planning, but he had a good idea.

“See if you can slip out when Kamoshida’s attention is fixed on me.” Akira whispered to Ryuji, taking off his glasses and slipping them into his bag. “Have Morgana fill you in on his plan and I’ll find you when the third-year game begins.”

Ryuji nodded as Akira rose to his feet, stepping into the centre of the court. He wasn’t an accomplished athlete by any stretch of the imagination, but a fiery drive swelled inside him.

If Kamoshida wanted a competition, he’d sure as hell give him one.

A whistle shrieked, and the game resumed. A tall second year behind him served the ball, which was quickly propped up by one of the teachers and set up for a spike by another.

Like clockwork, Kamoshida leapt into the air and swiped down on the volleyball. It raced towards Akira before the Trickster quickly stepped to the side. No doubt he’d have suffered the same fate as Mishima if his reactions had been slower.

“Another point for the teacher team led by Mr. Kamoshida!” the referee called out.

A few female students on the sidelines cried shrill cheers of support as the teacher held up his hand, lapping up the praise. Akira wiped his face as one of the teachers readied a serve.

The ball returned to play once more as a skinny second-year dived to keep it in play. Akira watched as a tall student with short, well-kept hair to his left gave him a nod of acknowledgement. He hurried beneath the ball and pushed it upwards, right by the edge of the net, teeing up Akira for a spike.

He leapt up, as Kamoshida matched him to block in mid-air. Akira struck the ball with the palm of his hand straight down. The ball bounced straight off the court below at too tight of an angle for Kamoshida to intercept.

“An unexpected point for the second-year team, scored by the substitute no less!”

Akira shared a high-five with the teammate who set up the spike. Even on the court, he heard the ever-present sound of gossip and rumours.

“Isn’t that the transfer student from 2-D?”

“You mean the one from all the rumours? No way!”

One familiar voice prevailed above all the others.

“Go Kurusu go!” Ann yelled, cupping her hands around her mouth with a loud cheer.

A few other students mimicked her support. Akira watched as Kamoshida’s face contorted with a wicked temper. He growled an order to the teacher taking the serve, before taking up a stance in the middle of the court.

The teacher’s team set up a spike for Kamoshida, which he quickly delivered to the second-years side of the court. Akira sprawled out behind the ball to keep it in the air, as two of his teammates created an opportunity and provided a spike.

“Another point for the students! What a game!”

Akira watched as the cheers continued, and Kamoshida’s anger escalated in unison. Though Kamoshida far excelled when it came to skill, Akira was able to engineer an advantage: Kamoshida aimed more and more spikes directly at Akira, no doubt in an attempt to injure him. Each opportunity gave Akira the chance to block a strike that could otherwise win the teachers a point, allowing his team to set up an attack of their own.

The second-year team had been trailing 10-2 when Akira was brought on, but with another point secured by a spike from the tall student, the score was now 21-20: only one point in favour of the teachers. Five more points before the teachers could score four would secure a shock victory.

As Akira stood at the back of the court readying a serve, he was interrupted by the shrill sound of the whistle. The teacher posing as a referee shouted out.

“Unfortunately, to ensure that we still have time for the games against the third-year team and the Shujin first team, we’ll have to end this match early. In a well-fought contest, the victory goes to Kamoshida and the Shujin teachers!”

The sounds of surprise and disappointment from Akira’s teammates and the students supporting them were quickly drowned out by the cheers of support for Kamoshida, even in spite of the circumstances of their victory.

In truth, Akira had never expected to win. But he derived a vengeful pleasure from pushing Kamoshida to resort to such tactics, which was only bolstered by the fury Kamoshida disguised on his face.

Akira didn’t waste any more time in the gymnasium, slipping out of the door to find Ryuji.

* * *

“So if we can steal this ‘Treasure’ that Kamoshida has somewhere in that castle, we can make him confess to all of the crimes he’s guilty of?” Akira confirmed with Ryuji, who nodded enthusiastically.

Akira had found Ryuji and Morgana on the rooftop: the only place in Shujin Academy where they could talk freely. Morgana’s plan was based on a theory, but as far as theories go the logic seemed to add up. The Palace was a place created by distorted desires, and according to Morgana, the source of those desires was a ‘Treasure’, hidden deep inside the castle. Stealing the treasure would strip Kamoshida of his distorted desires, and he would be so overcome with remorse that he would confess his crimes himself.

But the plan wasn’t without its risks: if Kamoshida’s Shadow were to die, _all_ of Kamoshida’s desires would disappear: his will to do anything at all would vanish, leaving him as nothing more than a husk of his former self before meeting an untimely death.

“So, what do you think?” Morgana asked, posing the ultimate question. “Are you determined enough to face those risks?”

Akira had already made his mind up.

“We can’t let him carry on as he is.” Akira confirmed with resolve.

Ryuji nodded in agreement.

“Alright then, this will be our first missions as Phantom Thieves!” Morgana said triumphantly. “We should take some time after school to prepare as best we can: we’ll need both weapons, like that model gun Ryuji bought, as well as medicine. If we can get everything sorted today, then we should be ready to go back to the Palace tomorrow.”

“Let’s take this bastard down!” Ryuji cheered loudly.

“Leave the medicine to me. One of the café regulars is a doctor from a nearby clinic.” Akira said. “Ryuji, reckon you could handle the weapons?”

“Aw man…” the boy groaned. “That store owner freaks me out man.”

“Ugh, fine. We’ll meet you in Shibuya after we’re finished at the clinic.” Morgana huffed.

“Let’s slip out now while the volleyball rally is still going.” Akira added. “I want to take down Kamoshida as soon as possible.”

Ryuji and Morgana grinned with agreement.

* * *

“So you need curative medicine because of some injuries you picked up in an accident last month?” the punk doctor queried, her look of quiet scepticism clear as day.

Akira nodded, seated stiffly on the patient’s bed of Tae Takemi’s examination room.

“That’s right. Some painkillers and other healing medicines would be ideal, but I’d also like some stimulants for my exams. I’ve got finals coming up soon, and I don’t score well enough then my life is over.” Akira fibbed with some added melodrama.

Takemi stared at him blankly but turned back to her clipboard with a shrug.

“So long as you pay for them, it’s none of my business what you do with them. But I have _one_ condition.” She said, teasing a response. Akira raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“I’m developing a new drug, and it’s very difficult to find young, healthy individuals willing to participate in clinical trials. Naturally, there are a lot of uncertainties involved, but if a fit, healthy young man were to test my drug…” she trailed off, her intent made crystal clear.

“I’ll do it…” Akira nodded after a hesitant pause. The punk doctor smiled with a sly grin.

“Excellent. You’ll be a most valuable little guinea pig. Drop by the clinic any day after you finish with school. I’ll be waiting” She smiled sweetly.

Akira shoved the bag of medicine into his school bag and made his escape from the clinic. Morgana poked his head out from the bag, equally shaken by the experience.

“I thought this was supposed to be the easier of the two…” he sulked. “There was something seriously creepy about that doctor.”

After a quick train journey back to Shibuya, Akira found Ryuji waiting in a street just off central street: outside an airsoft shop named ‘Untouchable’.

The first thing Akira noticed when he stepped inside the store was the immediate drop in temperature. He pulled his coat tighter as he adjusted to the chill.

A surly man with a toothpick in his mouth sat behind a counter with his legs up, focused on a magazine for gun enthusiasts. He glared at the pair as they entered but said nothing.

“See what I mean?” Ryuji mumbled, nudging Akira in the arm with his elbow. “Last time I just came in and bought the first thing I picked up off the shelf, but I bet he’s got some crazy authentic stuff.”

Akira nodded, stepping up to the counter despite Ryuji’s immediate protests.

“Hey. Any recommendations?”

The owner looked Akira up and down. Fortunately, he’d had the sense to change out of his school uniform while he was back in Yongen-jaya. Ryuji, on the other hand, hid behind a nearby shelf, disguising the recognisable plaid pattern on his trousers.

“Just buy whatever you look the look of. This place is for enthusiasts, not high-school punks like yourselves.” He grumbled.

“I’m looking for something realistic.” Akira pressed. “Do you have model pistols and shotguns?”

“I do.” The gruff man said. “Though you better promise not to pull any pranks with them, got it? Keep ‘em in a bag if you’re outside and don’t let the cops catch you with ‘em. I don’t need the hassle.”

“We’ll be careful.” Akira nodded sincerely.

“Damn well better be…” he muttered, rising to his feet and stepping into the back room. After a short while, he returned with a pair of trays, each lined with well-made replica weapons.

Akira handed over payment for an authentic model pistol and a pump shotgun for Ryuji. His eyes had been drawn in by an ornate knife, but even with the contribution from Ryuji, the firearms had cost him the bulk of his savings.

“Alright then.” Ryuji said as they exited the airsoft shop. “Guess we’re all good to go for tomorrow. Make sure you get a good night’s sleep.”

Akira split from Ryuji, heading towards the station.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Morgana lectured with a serious tone. “I don’t want you getting cold feet when we return to the Palace tom-“

The cat trailed off, eliciting a prod from Akira. Morgana stammered.

“Wow… What a beautiful, meow-valous girl…”

Akira instinctively dismissed Morgana’s bizarre lapse, until he realised the target of his affections.

“Takamaki?”

“You know her!?” Morgana gasped.

“She’s in my class.” Akira nodded. “There are some unsavoury rumours about her and Kamoshida as well.”

“So she could be another victim…” Morgana frowned.

Ann wore a tense, concerned expression, with signs of tears building in her eyes. Her phone was held up to her ear.

She responded forcefully to the caller on the other line, before holding her phone up anxiously; the person on the other end having seemingly hung up. Akira approached with slow steps.

“Takamaki-san? Is everything alright?”

She looked up from her phone rapidly, staring at him with her bright blue eyes.

“K-Kurusu?” Ann stammered in surprise. She leaned away with secrecy, but the sombre look in her eyes betrayed any indication that she was feeling okay.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

* * *

At Akira’s insistence, the two boarded the train for Yongen-jaya, giving Ann time to organise her thoughts on the quiet Tokyo subway.

Akira pushed open the door to Leblanc, ushering Ann inside and gesturing towards an empty booth. Sojiro was seated behind the counter as always. Though his first thought was to tease Akira for bringing a girl to the café, he quickly read the tone.

“I’ll close up and give you to some space to talk.” Sojiro said, slipping his arms into his white jacket. “There’s some leftover curry if you need it, and feel free to make the girl a cup of coffee if she’d like one.”

“Thanks Boss.” Akira responded, but Sojiro dismissed him with a humble wave.

Akira prepared a warm cup of coffee and placed it in front of Ann, sliding into the booth opposite. His mind wandered to his counselling session with Dr. Maruki all those weeks ago, thinking back on all the small actions and gestures he’d performed to ensure Akira felt at ease.

Ann eventually spoke up, her eyes fixed on the rippling surface of the coffee, massaging the mug in her hands.

“I’m sure you’ve heard about all the rumours about me and Mr. Kamoshida… Everyone says we’re dating; that we’re… getting it on.” Ann mumbled, grimacing as she repeated the false rumours.

“That was him on the phone.” She continued. “I don’t know how he got it, but he sounded so angry. He insisted I go to his place, which means exactly what it sounds like… And if I turn him down, he’ll take Shiho off of the volleyball team.”

Akira frowned as he came to understand the complexity of Ann’s dilemma. Just like he had been trying to protect Sumire, Ann had suffered in her effort to protect Shiho. He tightened the grip of his hands on his knees, controlling his anger towards the sinful teacher.

“I hate him, more than anyone else at that awful school, but I don’t know what to do. I feel trapped…”

Ann looked up at Akira.

“I know you and Ryuji have been asking about the abuse rumours. I don’t know what you’re planning, but I want you to let me in on it too.”

Akira looked at the girl in surprise, before his expression twisted into a conflicted scowl. Taking Ann to the Metaverse would be far too dangerous, and that’s ignoring the fact that trying to explain their plan to steal Kamoshida’s treasure would sound absurd to her.

“The best thing you can do,” Akira spoke softly, “is to keep protecting Shiho. Don’t let Kamoshida anywhere near her, even if it means skipping practice. Ryuji and I have a plan to take him down, but it needs time. Focus on keeping yourself and Shiho safe.”

“You make it sound so easy…” Ann sighed, running her finger along the rim of the mug. “Are you really sure that you can stop him.”

Akira’s eyes burned with a fiery conviction.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He stated, his eyes fixed on Ann’s.

Ann nodded slowly. Though she didn’t seem wholly convinced, Akira’s confidence seemed to reassure her nonetheless.

“Alright. I’ll trust you. And… thanks. I feel better after talking to you.”

Ann shuffled out of the booth and slung her back over her shoulder.

“Don’t tell anyone about what I told you, please?” Ann insisted. “And if there’s anything more I can do to take him down, let me know.”

Akira stood up from the booth and nodded with a smile.

“He won’t hurt anyone else. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It occurred to me that this may be the first one without Sumire present, but there's lots of action both inside and outside of the Metaverse to make up for it! Once again, there was a lot I wanted to cover in this chapter, which is why there are some quick scenes with Takemi and Iwai, but now the stage is nearly set for Kamoshida's Palace.
> 
> Also, I wanted to give a huge 'thank you' for 2000 hits. I never expected anywhere near the level of engagement this story has received when I first started it writing it. I couldn't be more grateful to each and every one of you!
> 
> No notes this time, but a bit of a chapter roadmap of sorts:  
> \- Next chapter will likely feature Ann's Awakening, more of the palace infiltration and some other events both new and old.  
> \- Some time after that (chapter 9/10) will be the conclusion to the Kamoshida arc, followed by *much* more new story stuff. I've got some exciting plans for the period between Kamoshida and Madarame and all of that story will be unique.  
> \- Also for those waiting on more of both Kasumi and Akechi, worry not: I've got some scenes with both of them planned soon. These will likely be scattered around the next 2-3 chapters.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tragedy rocks Shujin Academy. A new Persona awakens. A familiar face visits Leblanc.

Akira stood on the train platform leaning against a pillar, a pen in one hand and his diary in the other. He’d been keeping diligent notes on everything concerning Kamoshida and his Palace ever since he’d learnt of the Metaverse; it allowed him to reflect on what the best course of action would be, and also served as a therapeutic exercise to simply come to terms with the complex dilemma.

He finished a record of his conversation with Ann, staring at the words on the page with a tense expression.

_Don’t let Kamoshida anywhere near her._

His ears twitched with recognition of a familiar voice. He turned to see a pair of familiar eyes, staring at him happily through black full-frame glasses.

“Senpai!”

Sumire huddled up to Akira with a gentle smile, holding her bag between her arms in front of her chest.

“How was your gymnastics meet?”

“It was… okay…” Sumire mumbled. “Coach Hiraguchi says I’m spending too much time worrying about my routine instead of actually practising it.”

“Sounds like good advice.” Akira responded.

“Mm-hmm,” the redhead nodded. “Coach and Kasumi have always given me such good guidance. They always know what I need to improve on when they see my routine.”

“If you wouldn’t mind…” Akira asked curiously, “I’d love to see your routine as well some time.”

“A-ah, I-I mean…” Sumire stammered with a flustered blush. “I-It’s kind of embarrassing thinking of performing with you watching, b-but I think I’d like that…”

Akira beamed, taking Sumire’s hand into his own and giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Oh, that reminds me!” Sumire chirped. “My dad and I are visiting Kasumi at the hospital today. He said I should invite you too, I’m sure Kasumi would appreciate your visit.”

Akira winced with a pained expression. He wanted to accept, but his mission to stop Kamoshida had to take priority.

“I’m really sorry, but I’m busy after school. Tell her I said hi, and we’ll go together next time, I promise.”

Sumire’s head dropped with disappointment, but she nodded solemnly.

The two hustled onto the train carriage and dove into a pair of seats side by side. Akira rested his bag on his lap, watching the zip nudge open bit by bit.

“So, this is the girl that Kamoshida had that creepy room prepared for?” Morgana inquired, poking his head out of Akira’s school bag.

Sumire gasped with bright eyes absorbed by the furry black cat, she immediately wrapped her hands around Morgana’s head, scratching him underneath the chin and behind the ear.

“You didn’t tell me you got a cat, Senpai!”

“I’m not a c- aaah…” Morgana attempted to meow a protest, but Sumire’s scritches overpowered him. Morgana melted like butter in Sumire’s hands, leaning into her hands with a soft purr.

“I found him without an owner the other day, and Sojiro didn’t take much convincing. His name is Morgana.”

“What a cute name! I’m surprised you’re bringing him to school though. I guess Sakura-san doesn’t want him roaming around the café?”

“Bingo.” Akira nodded, running an idle hand down Morgana’s back. At least, Sojiro not wanting a cat in his restaurant was a preferable explanation than ‘my new cat is going to help me explore a cognitive world of distortions to stop the rampant ongoing abuse at our school’.

There was little conversation had after that; Sumire remained completely entranced by Morgana until the train arrived at Aoyama-Itchome. She reluctantly released her hold on him with a puff of her cheeks.

“Don’t forget, Sumire could be in danger until we destroy Kamoshida’s Palace. You should probably give her some kind of warning.” Morgana advised.

“Yeah, good idea.” Akira responded, eliciting a curious look from Sumire with a tilt of her head.

“Hm? It’s almost as if Morgana is purring like you’re having a conversation.”

“We were,” Akira smirked, “Morgana was just saying how he’d like to keep you company today.”

Sumire gasped, with surprise, concern, and excitement all in one. Morgana meowed a noisy objection.

“That is _not_ what I meant!”

“You can keep him in your bag and hide him under the desk during classes.” Akira said to Sumire, ignoring Morgana’s complaints. “Morgana is very well-behaved: he won’t make any noise and get you in trouble: promise.”

Akira ruffled the top of his head.

“That way he can keep you company and make sure you’re safe, right Morgana?”

“Ugh, I suppose you’ll be busy with classes.” Morgana conceded, but all Sumire heard was a cute meow in response to Akira. She fiddled with the ends of her scarf.

“Are you sure it’s okay, Senpai?”

“I insist,” Akira nodded, picking up Morgana by the torso and placing him in the bag over Sumire’s shoulder. He sat snugly and tucked his head out of sight. “I’ll come and find you after school to pick him up. Oh, and don’t worry if he wanders around a bit.”

“He sounds like an incredibly smart cat!” Sumire nodded exuberantly. “I guess you’ll be taking care of me today, Morgana!”

* * *

Akira slipped into his classroom and hurried to his seat. He could feel the eyes watching him as he sunk into his seat, no doubt following his showing at the volleyball rally, but he did his best to shrug them off.

What concerned him more was the sombre expression on Ann’s face as he walked past her to his desk. Her sullen eyes were fixed to the chipped surface of the desk, and her hands rested on her knees stiffly.

Akira pulled is phone out from his jacket pocket and found Ann’s number, which she’d given him after their meeting at Leblanc the day before. He typed a quick message.

_Everything okay?_

He watched as Ann checked her phone, turning her head to the side slightly as she read his text. She faced forward once more, but Akira spotted a response shortly afterwards.

_Have you seen Shiho recently? She hasn’t responded  
to any of my texts since yesterday._

Akira furrowed his brow. He looked up from his phone to see Ann’s bright blue eyes, looking at him patiently. He slowly shook his head with a frown.

Ann scowled with a look of concern as her eyes fell to the floor once more. She turned back to face the front of the classroom, running a hand through one of her pigtails.

Akira drummed his fingers on the desk, still picking up whispers of rumours from around the classroom. He sighed as he was reminded of Morgana’s absence beneath his desk. Rummaging in his school bag, he reached into a side pocket for the small plastic case he used to store his wireless earbuds.

But the case was empty.

His stomach sank; he must’ve left them in his room. No matter, he would have to live without them.

The morning classes were a drag. Though Akira tried to focus on his teacher’s lecturing, his mind quickly wandered. Before long, he found himself writing a new account in his diary, hidden behind an upright textbook. While his other accounts had been reflective, Akira wrote this entry as a preparation for the upcoming infiltration, noting a list of possible dangers he should pre-empt in Kamoshida’s Palace.

He heard the screech of chair legs against the wooden floor as a student on the opposite side of the classroom sprung to their feet.

“Look, up there, out the window!” he yelled.

Mr. Ushimaru turned from the chalkboard with a bitter glare.

“Settle down! This is a classroom, not a zoo!”

But his complaints fell on deaf ears as other students rose from their desks

“On the roof!”

“Is she going to jump?!”

“That’s Suzui-san!”

Ann leapt out of her seat with her eyes fixed on the door. Without a second thought, she dashed out of the classroom. Akira followed her quickly as more of his classmates drifted towards the door to get a closer look.

Ann and Akira stood by the window overlooking the Shujin courtyard, but their eyes were not looking down. They were fixed on Shiho Suzui, who stood on the opposite side of the chain fence with her toes over the edge of the roof.

The world seemed to freeze in that moment: Shiho standing at the perilous height, students glued to the windows with looks of shock and awe, Akira and Ann staring at Shiho with desperate eyes.

Until Shiho Suzui leaned forward and fell from the rooftop.

“No…! Shiho!” Ann cried, sprinting towards the stairs.

Akira stared at the space Shiho had been standing in shock until he heard Ryuji’s voice to his side.

“Dude, what’s going on?!”

“Come on!” Akira yelled, rushing down the stairs. Ryuji nodded, recognising Akira’s urgency, and chased after him.

* * *

“Outta the way! Move it!” Ryuji yelled, barging through the hordes of students as he led Akira to the courtyard. Students from every classroom had left their classroom by the time they reached the ground floor, crowding in the narrow corridors competing for a glance at the unfolding tragedy.

Eventually, the pair breached the swarm barring the courtyard. A pair of paramedics had lifted Shiho onto a stretcher and were preparing to load her into an ambulance. Ann knelt by Shiho’s side, while other students gawked at her with hands covering their gossiping mouths or taking pictures and videos on their phones.

“Senpai!”

Sumire rushed towards Akira; her face was wet with tears as she flung herself into his torso. Akira held her in a tight embrace, stroking the back of her hair and keeping her face buried into his shoulder.

“Don’t look…” he repeated, over and over, running his hand down her hair as she wept.

Akira could not take his own advice, however. His eyes were fixed over Sumire’s shoulder, staring at Ann and her best friend. Shiho’s eyes shuddered weakly as she whispered an apology to Ann, but he struggled to hear over the frantic crowd.

Shiho whispered into Ann’s ear. The blonde girl’s eyes turned wide with disbelief and fury. She spoke under her breath, but Akira recognised the name she uttered in an instant.

“Kamoshida?!”

Akira felt a furious rage well up inside of him. He dared not think of what Kamoshida could have done to Shiho.

“Ryuji!” Morgana hissed. The black cat stood hidden beneath the crowd, unnoticed by all but Akira and the blonde teen. He nodded towards Mishima, the dark-haired boy from the volleyball rally. A knowing look of fear and guilt racked his face before he scurried out of the courtyard.

Akira watched as Ryuji and Morgana chased after him, but Akira stayed behind to comfort Sumire.

“They’ll have someone as talented as Dr. Nakagawa taking care of her.” He whispered softly. “Shiho will pull through, I know it.”

He watched as Shiho was carried into the back of an ambulance. Ann accompanied her; the girl’s face was a maelstrom of emotion, but Akira knew what weighed on her mind heaviest of all.

Revenge.

* * *

The teachers eventually began to disperse the crowd, shepherding students back to their classrooms. Sumire parted reluctantly, wearing a toiled expression of grief and anxiety as she returned to her classroom on the third floor.

Akira hurried down the corridor, following the sounds of Ryuji’s enraged voice. It didn’t take him long to find him, interrogating a cowering Mishima in a secluded locker room.

“So the rumours about the physical punishment were true…” Ryuji pressed.

Mishima nodded with a sulk.

“He would call students when he was in a bad mood… and hit them. But yesterday, after the volleyball rally, he called Suzui to the P.E. office. I’ve never seen him so angry before.”

Akira grimaced, thinking back to Kamoshida’s livid expression during the rally. He was struck with a devastating feeling of guilt.

“That son of a bitch!” Ryuji bellowed, punching a nearby locker with his fist. He dashed out of the locker room. Akira and Mishima chased him as the blonde teen clambered up the stairs to the second floor and raced towards the P.E. faculty office.

Ryuji burst into the room. Kamoshida, the only teacher in the office, span around on his chair with an aloof expression.

“You bastard! The hell did you do to that girl?!” Ryuji screamed, kicking a folding chair which clattered to the ground.

“You unruly shit, that’s enough! What are you talking about?” Kamoshida sneered.

“I can’t begin to imagine what you did to Suzui to make her jump from the roof.” Mishima cried. “What you did was _not_ coaching!”

Kamoshida rose from his chair, taking slow, measured

“You’re going on and on about things you have no proof of.” Kamoshida spat. “And even if things are exactly as you say, what can you do? We just got a call from Shibuya General Hospital: Suzui has slipped into a coma. How would she make a statement in that condition?”

Akira seethed with anger: Kamoshida’s taunts sickened him. He watched as Ryuji’s hand tightened into a fist, and quickly grabbed his wrist before he could land the punch.

“Don’t.” Akira hissed. “He’s not worth it.”

Ryuji growled with frustration.

“Oh?” Kamoshida mocked the pair. “Why not let him strike me? I’m sure Sakamoto could use another lesson in self-defence.”

“You bastard!” Ryuji grumbled, lowering his fist.

“All three of you are getting expelled.” Kamoshida announced with a dismissive wave. “That’s what you get for defying me! Now get out my sight, scum like you make me sick.”

Ryuji and Mishima stared at the teacher in enraged disbelief, but Akira simply turned to leave. He had spotted Morgana observing the argument from nearby. The pair shared a knowing look: they knew exactly what needed to be done.

They would infiltrate the palace today, before anyone else could come to harm.

* * *

Akira sat restlessly at his seat, watching the clock high up on the wall. The rumours of his expulsion had already begun to spread like wildfire among the Shujin student body, and the glances of his classmates felt more and more oppressive as the day dragged on.

Morgana had returned to Sumire per Akira’s insistence, to offer both protection from Kamoshida and comfort. It angered him that Sumire had to witness another tragedy so soon after the accident pained him, but he prayed that Morgana could grant her suitable distraction.

Ryuji texted him incessantly, no doubt as a means of venting his anger before they could infiltrate the palace. His phone buzzed for the sixth time in the current lesson. Akira peered beneath his desk to type a response to Ryuji, only to find a message sent by Ann.

_I know what you said yesterday, but this changes  
everything. Let me in on your plan, I won’t take  
no for an answer._

Akira struggled to formulate a response. Ann’s state of mind was plain as day: she sought revenge against Kamoshida; against the man who had put her best friend through the unspeakable. He knew all too well the feeling, thinking back to the moment he had a pistol trained on Kamoshida’s Shadow.

He didn’t know how to respond, so against his better judgement, he didn’t respond at all.

When the students were finally dismissed, Akira hurried to the meeting point in the alley outside Shujin. Ryuji and Morgana arrived shortly.

“How was Sumire?” Akira asked Morgana as the cat hopped on top of a nearby dumpster.

“Shaken.” Morgana responded. “You should talk to her once we get rid of Kamoshida’s Palace. I think this is really weighing on her.”

Akira frowned. She’d be heading to the hospital to visit Kasumi by now. To think that now she’d be going there to visit Shiho as well…

He shook his head with closed eyes, readying the Metaverse Navigator on his phone.

“…Ready?”

Ryuji and Morgana nodded in unison; they shifted into the Metaverse oblivious to the Shujin student observing the group from around the corner.

* * *

“Alright!” Morgana said with authority. “This is our first mission as phantom thieves so let’s do it properly. We’ll need codenames.”

“Why’s that?” Ryuji queried, tilting his head curiously.

“We don’t know what impact using our real names could have in the cognitive world.” Morgana deduced. “Kamoshida knows who you are after all, we ought to be cautious.”

“If you say so Mona.” Ryuji replied.

Morgana shot Ryuji an unimpressed look as the blonde teen grinned ear to ear.

“It’s like a shortened version of Morgana, it’s perfect!”

“Fine, I’ll be Mona. You can be Skull,” Morgana said, before gesturing towards Akira, “and he’ll be Joker.”

“I get why you picked Skull for me, but why Joker?”

“Because he’s our wild card: the only one able to pull us out of a pinch.”

“Fine by me,” Akira shrugged, “but let’s not waste any more t-.”

Akira was interrupted by a flustered shout from behind the group.

“What the heck is this place?”

Ann Takamaki stepped forward to the drawbridge where the thieves were huddled, a confused and bewildered expression on her face.

“T-Takamaki?!” Ryuji stammered.

“Hold on, is that you Ryuji? And… Kurusu-kun!?”

“This is bad, it’s too dangerous for her to be here without a Persona.” Morgana said, keeping a watchful eye out for nearby Shadows.

“No way! Is that a monster cat? A t-talking monster cat!?” Ann stammered.

“Look, there’s no time to explain,” Ryuji yelled, “but it’s not safe here. You gotta go!”

“No!” Ann resisted with a tense refusal. “This place is related to Kamoshida right?”

“Come on,” Ryuji said to Akira, “help me force her outta here.”

Ryuji stepped towards Ann, but Akira held an arm out in front of the boy.

“Ann.” He said, his eyes fixed on the girl while still blocking Ryuji with his arm. “I know you want to get back at Kamoshida. If we let you join us here, do you promise to follow our instructions to the letter? We can’t guarantee your safety otherwise.”

Ryuji leaned in towards Akira and spoke into his ear with a frustrated whisper.

“You sure about this man!? We almost got killed when it was just you and Mona with Personas.”

Akira said nothing. He kept his eyes fixed to Ann’s, waiting for her response.

“If this has to do with your plan to take down Kamoshida, I’ll do whatever you need. Don’t you dare try and get rid of me.”

She spoke with conviction. Akira recognised the fiery determination in her eyes. He nodded.

“Alright. There’s a lot to explain, but here’s the gist. This is a cognitive version of Shujin Academy from the perspective of Kamoshida. His distorted heart views the school as his own castle, where he’s free to do whatever he wants, and so that’s what appears in this world.”

Ann stared at him with a blank expression of information overload. Akira shook his head.

“Morgana, try to explain things as we go. Let’s move.”

Akira ran into the castle, waving his allies forward in his stride.

* * *

The group had made respectable progress through Kamoshida’s Castle, tackling all manner of puzzles, and fighting off any Shadows that caught them. Battles were challenging with the added responsibility of protecting Ann, but with three Persona users, they had prevailed so far.

The party found a map of the castle’s lower floors, which had served as their guide up until now. A search through the nearby areas turned up a selection of books labelled after people at Shujin. Joker seized them per Mona’s instructions, as the cat believed they could be the key to progressing further into the palace.

“Does that bring you up to speed Lady Ann?” Morgana purred as Ann and Ryuji followed Akira down the narrow corridor carefully. The Trickster rolled his eyes at Morgana’s newly coined nickname for Ann.

“It’s still a lot to wrap my head around,” Ann confessed, “but I think I understand. I just still can’t believe that I’m talking to a cat.”

“Don’t worry, I’m still trying to make sense of this craziness as well.” Ryuji grinned, eliciting a small smile from Ann.

“That’s because you’re an idiot, Ryuji.” Morgana provoked, as Ryuji glared at the cat angrily.

“What the hell man, at least I’m-“

Akira hushed Ryuji’s outburst as he carefully pushed open the door to a vast library. He peered in, confirming his suspicion: someone else was inside.

A small boy dressed in strange white clothing was seated by a desk, flicking through a book with vague interest. He tossed it over his shoulder dismissively. The boy seemed harmless enough, but Akira looked at him curiously: a strange plate covered the top of his head like an eggshell.

“Oh!” he yelped, noticing Akira skulking by the door. “Hi mister! Are you friendly? I’ve not seen any humans around here.”

Akira slipped inside the library, followed by his three companions. He kept a hand to his side near his concealed dagger but sat opposite the child with a warm expression.

“Yes, we’re friendly.” he nodded. “Who are you? This place is dangerous for a kid like you.”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m just here to do some research on humans.” The boy said casually, as Akira struggled to interpret his meaning. “Normally I go to a big place with lots of desires from lots of different humans, but I was curious what I could find in a place with really strong desires from one human instead. They don’t taste good at all.”

The boy sat kicking his legs back and forth on the chair. Akira turned to the rest of the group, who shared his confused expression.

“So, you’re looking for… human desires?” Akira clarified, resulting in enthusiastic nods from the boy. “Maybe we can help you?”

“Wow, really? Thanks mister! It’s customary for humans to offer gifts or rewards in return for services, right? I guess that means I should give you something.”

The boy pondered for a while with a finger on his chin, before rummaging into his coat and pulling out a strange rock. It was shaped like a five-point star, and glowed with a dull, iridescent green.

“This is a star.” He said bluntly. “I heard humans like to wish on stars, but they don’t tell each other what their wishes are because they worry that they won’t come true. But this is a star that will only grant your wishes if you share them with another human!”

“Does that mean that if we wished for the power to stop a bad person, the star would grant it?” Akira replied.

“It should!” The boy chimed gleefully. “But you need to think about _how_ you’ll make the wish come true for it to happen.”

“So, what you’re saying is…” Ryuji mumbled, “that we need some super special attack? Kinda like the one Morgana showed us?”

He grinned ear to ear.

“Hey Joker, c’mere!”

Akira turned to Ryuji curiously. Ann and Morgana watched with confused faces as Ryuji whispered into his ear. Akira’s expression changed from one of surprise, to uncertainty, to curiosity.

“Sooooo… what do you think?” Ryuji smirked, “I saw something similar in a video game recently, it was totally wild!”

“That’s quite the elaborate move, but how would that even work!?” Akira muttered, but a bright light in his peripheral vision seized his attention.

“Wow, mister! Looks like your wish should come true!” The boy exclaimed with monotone joy. “I should get going, but I hope you’ll help me with my research when we meet again. My name’s Jose by the way!”

The boy leapt off the chair and hurried out of the library, leaving the Phantom Thieves alone in the curious aftermath.

“No point dwelling on it now, these things only make sense with time it seems.” Akira dismissed, as the other thieves nodded in agreement. “Let’s focus on this room for now.”

He retrieved the three books and handed Ryuji and Ann one each. The thieves scanned the bookshelves and compared the books on display to those in their hands.

“Hey Ryuji,” Ann questioned, “do you see any books about the male students in the volleyball team?”

“Yeah…” he said through gritted teeth. “Ryuji Sakamoto, the vulgar ape. Akira Kurusu, the petulant fool. This is how that bastard sees us.”

“There’s a section of books here for the female students as well…” Akira noted. “Your name is here, Takamaki-san… as well as Shiho’s.”

As the thieves organised the books into the appropriate sections, the sound of mechanical parts cranked behind the wall. Two bookshelves parted, revealing a grotesque hidden room. Polaroid photographs of female students were pinned to the walls, above nefarious tools and equipment not dissimilar to what they had seen in the ‘maiden’s room’ in the castle dungeon.

Of all the girls in the photos, the person to appear most frequently was Shiho Suzui. Her face dominated the room, sending a shiver down Akira’s spine.

“That disgusting bastard…” Ryuji howled. “How many secret rooms does this pervert have!?”

“You found other rooms like this?” Ann said angrily, making no effort to disguise her revulsion.

“In the dungeon.” Akira clarified. “There was a room like this… for Sumire.”

“He’s sick.” Ann spat. “Let’s not waste any more time here.”

“Agreed!” Morgana said with a newfound map and key in hand. “It looks like we’re closing in on the Treasure!”

A muffled laugh silenced the group of thieves as they turned back towards the library entrance. They all recognised the voice.

“Kamoshida? He’s nearby?” Ryuji inquired.

Ann rushed off in pursuit of the sound. Akira reached out to grab her, but she slipped from his grasp.

“Ann, wait!”

“Come on, it’s not safe for her to run off on her own.” Ryuji warned, hurrying after the blonde girl.

* * *

Akira, Ryuji and Morgana burst through the door in pursuit of Ann, entering a wide chamber. The room was gloomy, illuminated by red lowlighting. Akira presumed the intended connotation was one of romance, but it had the opposite effect: cognitive versions of female students were sprawled out across the room dressed in vulgar lingerie and inappropriate bedwear. It painted a tasteless scene.

Ann stood in the middle of the group of cognitive girls, staring down Kamoshida’s Shadow. The charlatan sat on a small chair that resembled a medieval throne. He rested one elbow on the arm rest with his other hand resting near his waist, where the cape was parted to reveal his naked chest and pink underwear. The sight was not completely unfamiliar to Akira, but nevertheless, it was beyond unsettling.

“This must represent the P.E. faculty office…” Morgana noted.

“This shit makes me sick.” Ryuji muttered.

“Now, aren’t you interesting…” Shadow Kamoshida cooed. “You bear a striking resemblance to my darling queen, but I know you’re a fake. She’s right here after all.”

The king clicked his fingers. A cognitive version of Ann stepped out from behind nearby curtains, dressed in a pink and black bikini. She wore a headband with cat ears attached and curled up on the ground next to Kamoshida with a toying hand on his knee.

“Is that what he thinks of me!?” Ann cried with a flustered anger. She clenched her hands tightly.

But Akira stared wide-eyed as more figures stepped out from behind the curtains, recognising each of their faces. Shiho Suzui; Sumire Yoshizawa; even her sister Kasumi; cognitive versions of each girl dressed in suggestive attire gathered around Kamoshida’s lap, fawning over him with coy giggles.

“He thinks of every girl the same way…” Akira said, swelling with fury. “Even Kasumi, who he’d never even met, is nothing but a sexual aspiration for him.”

“I bet you’re both jealous.” Kamoshida smirked with a lewd smile, jeering at the two boys.

“And you…” he purred, turning to Ann, “you may think you’re playing hard to get, but the truth is, you yearn for the attention I give you. With your modelling gig and all those naughty rumours, I bet you revel in having all those eyes on you… Scanning every inch of your tight body.”

King Kamoshida rolled his tongue over his lips lasciviously, with globs of saliva dripping onto his knees. But the king mustered a semblance of composure to click his fingers once more, summoning a pair of guards equipped with heavy broadswords and kite shields.

“Lady Ann!” Morgana cried.

“Watch out!” Ryuji warned.

Ann shuddered at the sight of Kamoshida’s lecherous figure. Her expression dropped, and a despondent frown crept onto her face.

“You treated Shiho like this all along… And I was too blind to see it…” she brooded. “I let her down, even though Akira warned me… Even though I knew what kind of _monster_ you were. I’m so sorry Shiho…”

Ann brought a hand to her cheek to catch a tear. Akira shouted out.

“Don’t just sit there and listen to him.”

Ann raised her head, a look of vengeful anger burning in her eyes.

“You’re right. I won’t let this piece of shit toy with me anymore. I may have been too late to stop him from hurting Shiho, and I’ll have to live with that for the rest of my life.”

She screamed with a terrifying rage.

“But I won’t let this disgusting son of a bitch near anyone else!”

Ann heard a sultry voice ring out in her head.

**_My… It’s taken far too long._ **

The young girl fell to the ground as a shockwave racked her mind. Ann clawed at her head, pulled at strands of hair, and clutched her skull, screaming in agony.

**_Who will avenge her if you do not?  
Who will protect those who do not yet know the danger that awaits them?  
You always knew, just as I did, that forgiveness was never an option._ **

**_I am thou… Thou art I…_ **

**_Discard the shackles of restraint, and we can finally forge a contract._ **

Ann staggered to her feet. Blue flames danced across her face, revealing a red mask with cat-like features.

“I hear you, Carmen.” She whispered beneath her breath, wrapping her figures around the edge of her mask. “No more holding back!”

The girl ripped the mask from her face as a pyre of blue flames engulfed her. Gale-force winds swept through the room, tossing aside the cognitive beings beside those grouped around Kamoshida. A bright light emanated from the flames.

As the light faded, Ann stood tall in a bright red latex suit. Above her, an intimidating Persona resembling an opera singer stood with her heel digging into the back of a bowing male.

In an instant, the girl dashed towards a nearby guard stunned by her Personas awakening. She kicked the broadsword free from its grip with a high kick. Leaping into the air, she slashed down on the cognitive replica of herself, before following up with a sweeping horizontal slash. All four cognitive beings dissipated in a black mist.

Kamoshida crawled back with a whimper as a guard leapt to his aid with an outstretched shield. The Shadow melted into a demonic being, glaring at the thieves with contempt.

“You stole everything from Shiho… You scumbag! Now it’s your turn!” Ann shrieked.

She discarded the broadsword as it clattered to the ground, opting for a leather whip that apparated in her hand in a bright blue fire. She snapped the whip on the ground with a crack, before striking the Shadow fiercely.

As the whip cracked and recoiled, hot fire burst out from the length of the whip. The blaze crippled the demon as it crumpled to the ground.

“Looks like Ann’s given us an opening!” Ryuji yelled to Akira, who was strafing the demon with his pistol drawn.

“Alright. It’s showtime, Ryuji!” Akira responded. He leapt into the air.

His vision flickered as the sight of Kamoshida’s Palace transitioned into a vast ocean, occupied only by a pair of pirate ships. Akira’s feet planted into the deck of the ship alongside Ryuji, who stood behind an array of cannons aimed at the opposite ship helmed by the demonic Shadow.

“Haha, alright!” Ryuji howled, “Time to blast them away!”

Ryuji ran down the edge of the ship with a burning taper in hand, lighting the fuse at the back of each cannon. He retreated behind the ship’s mast and plugged his ears as the cannons fired one by one. The heavy cannonballs whipped through the air in a billowing cloud of black gunpowder, smashing through the Shadow’s ship with bursts of shrapnel and splintered wood.

The deck of the ship was gradually engulfed in flames, leaving the Shadow trapped in a ring of fire.

“Now! Get ‘em Joker!”

Joker swung his grapple onto the mast of the opposite ship, swinging over with speed and dexterity. As he swung up into the air above the Shadow, he released his grip on the grappling hook and seized the knife by his side.

Joker shifted the momentum of the fall into a powerful vertical slash down the Shadow’s back, destroying it instantly. He sheathed his dagger once more and adjusted his mask, his face lit up by the tall embers that surrounded him before his vision flickered, and he found himself in Kamoshida’s chamber once more.

Morgana stared at the two boys slack jawed as Ryuji hollered with excitement.

“Dude! That was incredible! Way better than what I was expecting!”

“This will definitely give us an edge in battle if we find the right opening.” Morgana nodded eagerly.

Kamoshida’s Shadow fled from the chamber with a timid whine. Ann shouted out with venomous fury.

“You bastard, wait!”

She spoke with conviction, but her body faltered as she fell to her knees with exhaustion. The three thieves hurried to her aid.

“You okay?” Kurusu asked warmly, offering an extended hand.

“Yeah… I’m okay…” Ann said between heavy breaths.

Morgana hurried to the door of the chamber, peering out into the corridor anxiously. He waved to the other thieves.

“There’ll be more enemies coming soon, we should retreat for now.”

Ryuji and Ann grimaced with reluctant frowns, but Akira nodded to Morgana. They’d made good progress, and Ann was in no condition to fight after undergoing her Persona’s awakening. The thieves made a swift escape from the palace.

* * *

Back in the real world, the group debriefed after their infiltration of the palace and went their separate ways. Ann planned to visit Shiho in the hospital and invited him to join her, but he refused: the Trickster knew Sumire would still be there, no doubt worried for Shiho just as much as Kasumi. He felt guilty for abandoning her after the day’s events, even if his reasons for doing so were justified.

Akira returned home in silence, comforted only by the quiet clacking of the train carriage and the self-absorbed mumblings of passers-by. As the adrenaline in his body passed and the weight of their excursion into the Metaverse began to weigh on him, Akira trudged up to the front door of Leblanc and pushed it open with his shoulder.

“Welcome back.” Sojiro mused.

There was only one customer in the café, but it was impossible for Akira to ignore his presence. Goro Akechi sat opposite Sojiro at the counter, scribbling idly into a notebook. His eyes wandered to the door, and he smirked as he recognised Akira.

“Ah, I was hoping I would see you today.” Akechi smiled, taking a sip from his coffee.

“That so?” Akira retorted. “I’m pretty exhausted, so I’m afraid I won’t be at my sharpest if you’re looking for another debate.”

Akechi’s lips dipped into a disappointed frown, but he shook his head, reluctant to take no for an answer.

“That’s a shame. Perhaps I could lift your spirits? There’s a place I know in Kichijoji that I think you would like.”

The young detective smiled with a sincere tilt of his head.

“My treat?”

Akira sighed, but Sojiro answered for him before he could say anything.

“You should take him up on the offer, kid. Don’t want to be rude after all.”

Akira glared at Sojiro: he could tell his guardian was pushing him to join Akechi if only to maintain a good relationship with a customer who was slowly shaping up to be a regular.

“Alright then.” Akira nodded. “Give me a moment to change out of my school uniform.”

Akechi beamed, returning Akira’s nod with a patient smile.

* * *

The pair were quiet during the train journey to Kichijoji: Akira was still tackling his exhaustion, and he presumed Akechi were saving his prepared topics of conversation for their destination.

As they walked down Kichijoji’s main promenade, Akechi led the pair down a bustling side street. A few people were gathered in the street outside a brightly lit front.

“A jazz club?” Akira muttered in surprise.

“I gathered you’re a fan of music. This is a place I visit regularly to relax between cases.” Akechi responded. “It’s invitation only, so you’ll be my special guest.”

Akira smiled as Akechi led him down a narrow set of stairs. Situated below the busy streets of Kichijoji, the jazz club was bigger than he expected. Unlike in Kamoshida’s Palace, the low lighting here was comfortable and mature. A pianist and singer stood in the centre of the room adjusting their equipment, surrounded by tables with adult patrons sipping from cocktails.

“Hey, Akechi-kun. Good to see you.” A dark-skinned man with black shades waved from behind the bar. He exuded a cool confidence.

“Hello Muhen.” Akechi nodded cordially before gesturing to Akira with an open palm. “This is Akira Kurusu, a friend of mine. I hope he’s welcome?”

“Any friend of yours is a friend of ours.” Muhen nodded, turning to Akira. “You’re welcome any time kid, but we can only serve you non-alcoholic drinks.”

“Of course, thank you.” Akira nodded with a smile.

Akechi handed Muhen payment for entry and a pair of colourful cocktails. He escorted Akira to a table near the central stage.

Akira’s eyes were fixed on the singer: he recognised her as Lyn Inaizumi, a popular jazz and soul vocalist. Plenty of her tracks were saved to his phone.

“I don’t remember sharing my music taste with you, but I think I can see why you insisted I join you today.” Akira pestered Akechi. The young detective gave a knowing grin.

“I hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable. I _am_ a detective after all.”

The live performance began, and a wave of relaxation overpowered Akira. He hadn’t had much opportunity to listen to live music before, but the experience was always a pleasant one, and an especially welcome respite after the day’s trials.

An hour passed until the duo finished their set to light applause from the crowd. They stepped off of the stage for a break as Akira eased into his chair contentedly: he was glad Sojiro pushed him into accepting Akechi’s offer.

“So, I don’t doubt there was something you wanted to discuss.”

“Indeed,” Akechi nodded with a glint in his eyes. “My investigations into the mental shutdown cases have been continuing, but there was another matter I wished to hear your opinion on. An ethical quandary if you will.”

Akira’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“I believe when we first met,” Akechi continued, “I introduced myself as someone with ‘a strong sense of justice’. Of course, that means _true_ justice: going through the proper channels and following a lawful procedure to ensure criminals are punished appropriately. But what of those individuals who evade or circumvent the justice of the law?”

“I’m not sure I follow your line of thinking.” Akira dismissed, his eyes still watching Akechi’s suspiciously.

“Allow me to rephrase the question, then.” Akechi closed his eyes with a moment of thought. “Say you have a criminal. They have committed a heinous act; something truly deserving of a severe punishment in the name of the law, but there’s no evidence to convict them on.”

Akechi’s gaze pierced Akira with a cold intensity.

“Do you believe it would be just to punish them regardless of evidence or conviction?”

Akira shuddered under Akechi’s prying eyes. It was impossible to ignore the parallels between his supposedly hypothetical question and the incident between Kamoshida and Shiho. With that in mind, he had decided on his answer long ago, but he was reluctant to acquiesce to Akechi’s interrogation so easily.

“This wouldn’t happen to relate to a recent incident, would it?” Akira probed.

“It would.” Akechi conceded with a smirk. “Many of the officers and investigators I work with are parents after all, some of whom have children enrolled at Shujin Academy. Rumours are just as common among adults as they are among young people.”

Akira nodded, pushing Akechi for further explanation.

“Shiho Suzui, I believe was the victim’s name? You have my condolences; it sounds as if she was a friend of yours.”

“She is.” Akira corrected the detective’s use of past tense. “Shiho’s in a coma, but she’s a strong girl. She’ll pull through.”

“I see.” Akechi mused.

“You called her a victim as if someone were responsible for what happened to her.” Akira pressed, though it unsettled him to have to refer to Shiho so coldly. “But Suzui-san attempted suicide.”

“Thus, my prior question.” Akechi pondered. “Shiho Suzui was a good student, from what I hear, with reasonable aspirations and prospects beyond her time at Shujin Academy. Therefore, what would compel the girl to take her own life?”

Akechi resting an elbow on the wooden table beside their empty glasses, leaning into it and curling his fingers around his chin.

“So, tell me, Kurusu-kun. If a criminal committed a terrible act; drove someone young and impressionable to such a degree, motivated by grief and trauma, but they could not be tried for lack of evidence, should they still be punished?”

Akira searched his mind for the right words, hesitant to let slip anything that might make him or the other Phantom Thieves a target for Akechi’s scrutiny.

“I can only speak hypothetically; I don’t have the full context behind your question, after all. Punishing criminals who cannot be convicted or reprimanded by the law may not adhere to your notions of ‘true justice’, but if it saves other innocent people from harm then it’s the right thing to do.” Akira stated with resolve.

“The right thing to do…” Akechi repeated, weighing the words on his lips. “A vague, but interesting concept. Your answer is satisfactory, thank you for indulging my curiosity.”

Akechi stood up from his seat and adjusted his tie. He scooped his metal briefcase into his hand and gave a pleasant nod to Akira.

“I’ll leave you to enjoy the rest of your evening. I’ll speak to the owner and ensure that you’re welcomed if you ever visit again, it’s the least I can do to repay you for your time.”

Akechi departed with a wave, leaving Akira alone with his thoughts in the club’s cosy atmosphere.

He pondered the detective’s questions in his mind. Nothing he had said would suggest that Akechi had knowledge of the Metaverse, but he could not deny the boy’s ability to uncover information: the school had endeavoured to keep news of Shiho’s incident hidden, and Akechi had even discovered details about Akira’s own hobbies and interests. They would have to be careful.

Though his thoughts were riddled with concern, Akira could still not restrain his joy as he looked around the comfortable jazz club. No doubt he would become a regular: perhaps he could bring Sumire as well?

He checked the time on his phone. The thieves had agreed to continue their infiltration tomorrow, but it was only 9:30pm. Akira noticed Lyn and the accompanying pianist returning to the stage to continue their performance.

He turned to Muhen with a hand raised.

“I’ll get one more of those cocktails please.” Akira asked with a warm smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading folks! This was a pretty long chapter, but hopefully you enjoyed it!
> 
> Also, I finally went through the previous chapters and made corrections to grammar, typos and other things I felt needed fixing: I don't doubt there will be things I've missed, but it should be improved. I've only been working on this story for a few weeks so I figure it's far too early for anyone to be doing a re-read, but it should be more cohesive for anyone new coming into the story.
> 
> Some notes:  
> \- Sorry to those who were hoping that things with Shiho would pan out differently. Don't worry if you're anxious that this is the last you'll see of her though, I've got more scenes planned for her character.
> 
> \- Showtimes were one of the more exciting additions to Royal, and while Joker's showtimes in the game are among the best, I always wanted to see more of them, hence the Akira/Ryuji showtime in this chapter! I'm planning on coming up with showtime attacks between Akira and each party member, but I may include some others if I have any good ideas for them.
> 
> \- To those who may not have picked up on the reference, the vocalist in the jazz club scene is the same Lyn who features in the P5 OST.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Phantom Thieves finally confront Shadow Kamoshida once and for all. A new relationship blossoms.

The day that the thieves secured their infiltration route was Wednesday 20th: though they’d previously entered the palace a few days prior, Akira had insisted on taking a few more days to prepare.

He returned to both Takemi’s clinic for a medical trial, as well as the airsoft shop Untouchable. Their progress through the palace had resulted in a number of treasures besides Kamoshida’s Treasure that they sought, which Akira wasted no time in pawning off to Iwai in exchange for new weaponry.

In addition, Akira had needed time to wrap his head around another dilemma entirely: Goro Akechi. Their conversation at the Kichijoji jazz club was enough proof to confirm that the young detective had some knowledge of Kamoshida’s crimes, but there had been no signs of movement from the police in the days following Shiho’s incident. Either Akechi’s suspicions weren’t founded enough to spur the police into action, or he had no intention of acting at all.

But Akira knew one thing for certain: Kamoshida’s change of heart couldn’t be delayed any more. Thankfully, the infiltration proceeded smoothly after their confrontation with Kamoshida in the cognitive version of the P.E. faculty office. The group decided on Ann’s codename: Panther, seized several bizarre objects which Morgana called ‘Will Seeds’, and secured a safe route through the palace.

So when they snuck through the throne room and barged through the doors of a vast treasure vault on Wednesday 20th, he breathed a sigh of relief. Kamoshida’s Treasure floated above a pile of gold coins, precious jewellery, and valuable trinkets.

“Holy shit…” Ryuji gasped. “Look at all this gold.”

“I know that we’ve been hunting a ‘treasure’ all this time, but I wasn’t expecting actual treasure to be here as well.” Ann pondered, staring at the hoard.

“But why’s it all cloudy like that Mona?” Ryuji questioned.

“Don’t forget, what we’re here to steal are Kamoshida’s distorted desires, but most people don’t realise that something intangible like their desires can even be stolen. That’s why we need to send a calling card!” Morgana tutored with a smirk.

“The hell?” Ryuji objected with a stamp of his foot. “You want to tell Kamoshida what we’re up to!?”

“I think I understand.” Akira nodded. “We need Kamoshida to believe that his desires are something that can physically be taken. So, we send this calling card, and a physical representation of his desires should appear in this vault?”

“Bingo.” Morgana grinned. “You pick up on this fast Joker!”

“Alright then. Morgana and I will prepare the calling card to send tomorrow,” announced Akira, looking at Ryuji and Ann with a look of resolve. “Make sure you’re both ready.”

The pair of thieves nodded, sharing his determined look.

* * *

That evening Akira prepared the calling card. He woke early the following morning and hurried into school, arriving an hour and a half before homeroom classes were scheduled to begin.

Fortunately, the front doors had already been unlocked. He slipped into the school’s main foyer and surveyed the nearby corridors carefully. The school was silent.

Akira rummaged into his bag and pulled out the copies of the calling cards he’d prepared. He quickly pinned them to the bulletin board amongst posters and fliers for school clubs and events, littering the board with splashes of red and black.

He took a step back to admire his handiwork. Morgana did the same from within the teen’s school bag. They shared a satisfied nod, before Akira slipped out of the school once more.

Akira returned to Shibuya via the train, checking his phone as he passed the turnstiles. It was 7:30; there was still plenty of time to kill before anyone would arrive at school to see the calling card.

His phone buzzed. A text from Sumire.

_Good morning Senpai! Are we meeting at Shibuya station?_

A thought crossed Akira’s mind. He typed a response with a smirk.

_I’m actually already in Shibuya: Sojiro needed me  
to take care of something for him. Maybe I could  
come to your house and pick you up?_

Ellipses bounced across the bottom of his screen as he waited patiently for a response.

_Okay! My dad said he’s keen to see you again,  
and my mum has been waiting to meet you.  
I’ll send my address._

It took only ten minutes for Akira to reach the Yoshizawa household from Shibuya station. As he stood outside their front door, he felt a warmth on his cheeks. He was already friendly with Shinichi, and obviously he was close to Sumire, but meeting the Yoshizawa family in their own home seemed a significant step forward.

“Keep your cool.” Morgana encouraged from within his school bag.

The Trickster did his best to disguise his anxious thoughts before knocking on the door. After a short pause, a middle-aged woman opened the door with an excitable smile.

“Oh! So, you’re the lovely young man I’ve heard so much about! Please, come in.”

Akira bowed politely before stepping into the house. Shinichi Yoshizawa was seated at a breakfast table, chopsticks in hand. He could hear the shower running down a nearby corridor.

“It’s good to see you again Akira.” He said warmly with a polite nod. “Sumi’s just getting ready, would you like some breakfast?”

Though reluctant to impose, his early departure meant that he’d been deprived of Sojiro’s curry.

“If it’s not too much trouble. Thank you Mr. Yoshizawa.”

Shinichi handed Akira a tray of food: a small slice of salmon, a salad of spring green vegetables, white rice and miso soup. He bowed to Shinichi gratefully, but the man simply laughed.

“Come now Akira, I thought I told you, you don’t need to be so formal.”

“If you insist.” He smiled.

Sumire turned into the kitchen dressed in her Shujin uniform, running a brush through her hair. She smiled with glee as she spotted Akira sitting next to her father. The girl hopped into the seat opposite him, quickly digging into the breakfast that awaited her.

“So, do you two have a busy day at school today?” Shinichi queried between mouthfuls.

Akira smirked at the irony of the question but responded with a standard enough answer.

“It should be a quiet one for me.” He lied. “I’ve got some business to take care of after school, but other than that, I’ll probably be getting some early studying done for the mid-terms next month.”

“You have such an admirable work ethic Kurusu-kun.” Mrs. Yoshizawa praised. “Studying while you’re young is important, but don’t forget to take time to relax as well.”

“I will.” Akira nodded, sipping from the bowl of miso soup. “That reminds me, I wanted to thank you for this lovely present Mrs. Yoshizawa” he said, gesturing to the charcoal coat he wore.

“No, no, please. Any thanks you could offer me pale in comparison to what you’ve done for me and my family.” She dismissed with a friendly smile.

“What about you Sumire?” Shinichi inquired.

“I’ve got some time in the gym scheduled to practise my routine before my session with Coach this evening. If I had time afterwards, I was thinking I’d visit Kasumi.”

“I think she’d like that.” Her father said with a sombre smile.

The family finished their breakfast. Akira handed Sumire her coat hanging from a hook near the entrance and opened the front door.

“It was lovely meeting you Kurusu-kun. You’re welcome any time!” Sumire’s mother waved them off from the kitchen, to which Akira responded in kind.

The journey to Shibuya was a quiet one. Sumire said little, occasionally bringing up small talk about her gymnastics practice or classmates, but Akira could sense that Kasumi and Shiho still weighed on her mind. He felt guilty: his mission to stop Kamoshida had left him with little time to spend with her outside of their morning commute.

He would make time for her soon, once Kamoshida underwent the change of heart, Akira promised to himself.

It wasn’t until they arrived at Shujin that Sumire perked up with curiosity. A swam of students crowded around the bulletin board, gossiping in hushed tones.

Ryuji approached the pair with a copy of the calling card held between his index and middle fingers.

“Yo, check it out. This is what has everyone so worked up.” He said, feigning ignorance in front of Sumire.

Akira took the card from his confidant. He cleared his throat, sensing Sumire’s curious eyes on him.

“Sir Suguru Kamoshida, the vile sinner of lust. You abuse and defile the students whose safety has been entrusted to you, betraying all that it means to be a teacher. As punishment for your disgusting crimes and heinous acts, we have decided to steal your distorted desires and make you confess your sins with your own mouth. From, the Phantom Thieves of Hearts.”

“Sounds like all those rumours about Kamoshida were true, huh Yoshizawa-san?” Ryuji added.

“Stealing desires?” Sumire pondered. “What’s going to happen to Mr. Kamoshida?”

“I don’t know.” Akira lied. “But it sounds like he’s done some terrible things, and these ‘Phantom Thieves’ are going to make sure he doesn’t get away with it.”

Sumire stayed silent in thought. Akira turned to Ryuji, he still wore an excited grin on his face as he gestured towards the crowd who made no effort to quieten their gossiping.

“Someone’s got it out for Mr. Kamoshida?”

“Does this mean those rumours are true!?”

“Phantom Thieves? Seems like a prank to me.”

A short first year shushed violently, fleeing from the bulletin board dragging his friends by the arm. Other students quickly followed suit as Akira recognised the tall teacher who walked past him, stamping towards the board between the parting crowd.

Kamoshida yanked a card from the board, tossing the pin to the ground nearby. He scanned it with a furious scowl on his face.

“Who’s responsible for this!?”

“Hm! A predictable reaction for a guilty man.” Morgana jeered.

“Seems like Morgana’s getting worked up by all of this.” Sumire mumbled, leaning in closer to Akira and running a hand over Morgana’s head.

Kamoshida craned his neck towards the group, trudging towards them angrily.

“Was it you two!?” he said to Akira and Ryuji.

“What do you mean?” Akira feigned with an oblivious look. Kamoshida relented.

“Tch, it doesn’t matter. You’ll both be expelled soon enough anyway.”

For the briefest of moments, Akira could swear he saw the sneering face of Kamoshida’s Shadow. The calling card must have been successful.

Sumire gasped as Kamoshida made his exit, tugging on Akira’s sleeve with concern.

“Expelled!? I’d heard rumours that some second years were getting expelled, but that’s you Senpai!?”

The teen gritted his teeth, irritated that Sumire had to be here to hear Kamoshida’s threats. He reassured her with a squeeze of her hand.

“I’m working on getting it resolved with Ms. Kawakami and the principal. Nothing to worry about.” He said with a blasé smile. Sumire gave a sombre nod but showed little sign of reassurance.

“Don’t forget,” Morgana chimed in, “now that we’ve sent the calling card, we have to steal the Treasure today. It’s now or never.”

Akira nodded with resolve. It was finally time to change the heart of Suguru Kamoshida.

* * *

“Alright. This is it.” Akira said to his confidants stepping up to the drawbridge of Kamoshida’s Castle.

“Hell yeah, let’s take this bastard down.” Ryuji cheered with an eager fist pump.

“This is still our first mission as Phantom Thieves, let’s pull it off!” Morgana added.

“Yeah, this is for everyone that’s counting on us.” Ann nodded.

Having already secured their infiltration route, the journey back to Kamoshida’s treasure vault was swift. Akira leapt up onto a ledge to reach the throne room’s balcony before he heard a shout from Ryuji, who was peering through the large door.

“Uh, Joker? The throne room is empty: no sign of Kamoshida or any of those guards from before.”

“Guess this’ll be even easier than we thought!” Morgana chuckled.

Akira glanced into the throne room, checking the corners of the room as well as possible hiding spots behind statues and decorations. But Ryuji’s deduction was correct: the chamber was empty.

“Let’s be quick, we can be in and out with the Treasure before he knows it’s missing.”

Ryuji led the charge, bursting into the treasure vault with a shoulder barge. A regal crown now stood proudly in the centre of the room where a cloudy mirage was previously.

“T-Treasure!” Morgana said gleefully.

“This thing looks like it weighs a ton…” Ryuji groaned.

“You grab the opposite side.” Akira instructed Ryuji, gripping the crown from the base with both hands.

Just as Ryuji had expected, the crown wavered with an uneasy balance, even with both boys holding it with all their strength. Ann kept an eye out for enemies, waving them forward.

They only got as far as the centre of the throne room before the crown was knocked out of their grip by a powerful volleyball spike.

“Ooooh, what an incredible spike Sensei…” a girl’s voice cooed. Ann scowled, immediately recognising the voice from her imposter.

Kamoshida’s Shadow stood triumphantly, with Ann’s cognitive double alongside him. He extended a hand towards the crown, which shrunk in size and darted into his hand like a magnet.

“Thought you weren’t gonna show for a second there, ya sick bastard.” Ryuji taunted, flourishing his weapon.

“I had hoped my guards would prove capable enough to dispose of petty thieves such as yourselves, but it would appear that only I am fit to end your miserable lives. Isn’t that right, my princess”

Kamoshida laughed maniacally, stroking the cognitive Ann’s chin with a lewd glare. She giggled under his touch.

“You’re a disgusting demon…” Ann spat. “I may have put up with you to protect Shiho, but after everything you’ve done, I’ll never forgive you!”

Her mask faded as Carmen apparated, embers burning in the palm of her hands.

“Ignorant bitch!” Kamoshida growled. “The title of king is my right! A farmer does not concern himself with the concerns of his cattle, he merely fattens them up to reap their produce. I have done no different!”

Akira stared at the monster, his eyes running down the barrel of his pistol trained on Kamoshida’s head.

“You’re wrong. You’re no king, only a miserable wretch. We won’t let you hurt anyone else!”

Kamoshida’s Shadow cackled with delirious laughter. His voice turned sinister and a black miasma coalesced around his form.

“I’ll see that you’re suitably punished for disobeying me!”

The creature’s body bulged and writhed, growing in size at an alarming rate.

Akira stared wide-eyed alongside Ryuji and Ann. Kamoshida’s Shadow transformed into a demonic creature: fleshy pink skin, bestial horns and a foul, slimy tongue. He towered above the Phantom Thieves almost four times their height, waving grotesque tools in his four hands. The creature’s legs snared a golden trophy filled with feminine mannequins, and his treasure, the gaudy crown, now sat firmly atop his head.

“Graaaaaaagh!” the demon roared, lashing the ground with a rider’s crop.

Ann wasted no time in beginning her attack: with an extension of her hand, Carmen released a torrent of fire towards the demon.

The flames engulfed Shadow Kamoshida, but he cut through the blaze with a swing of a golden knife. He retaliated with a stab, but Ann dodged to the side and continued her frontal assault.

Akira watched as Kamoshida dispelled Ann’s flames with a crack of his whip, raising a powerful gust of wind. The demon stabbed a golden fork into the trophy and devoured a feminine form.

“He’s healing from those things in the trophy!” Morgana warned with his scimitar in hand.

“Skull, break his guard!” Akira ordered, dashing towards Shadow Kamoshida with his pistol drawn.

“You got it Joker!” Ryuji answered with a grin. “Let’s go Captain!”

Ryuji tore the mask from his face as Captain Kidd charged Shadow Kamoshida. The Persona clashed with Kamoshida, forcing the demon to hold back the bow of his ship with its hands.

“Now! Mona, with me!”

Akira narrowed his focus and fired a trio of bullets towards the trophy. The bullets dug into the face of the golden cup one after another, forming a growing crack on its gleaming surface. Morgana recognised Akira’s intentions, and summoned Zorro with a flick of his wrist.

“Zorro! Show your might!”

The black-clad outlaw delivered a series of swift stabs towards the crack in the trophy. With one final lunge, the cup shattered: its contents spilled to the ground and dissipated.

“Aaargh!” Shadow Kamoshida cried with a guttural scream. “You bastards!”

Kamoshida leaned back to deliver an attack against Morgana, seeking vengeance for the destruction of his prize, before Ann interrupted him with another deluge of fire.

The demon turned his sights on Ann, striking her into the ground with the whip. The girl stumbled under the force of the attack, crumbling to the marble floor.

“Disobedient peasant! How dare you keep defying me!”

“Panther!” Ryuji cried out anxiously. He gritted his teeth, firing a barrage of shotgun shells at Kamoshida.

The monster growled viciously, staring at Ryuji with resentful disgust. He cracked the whip on the ground.

“Slaves! Bring me a ball! It’s time to end this.”

“I-I’ve got your ball right here, King Kamoshida!”

Akira turned with confusion, recognising the source of the voice. The dark-haired form of Mishima scampered through the battlefield with a volleyball in hand. He cowered beneath Shadow Kamoshida, readying a serve.

“It’s just a cognitive version!” Morgana reminded the group. “He bears no relation to the Mishima in the real world!”

“Get to cover, now!” Akira yelled.

Mona healed the most severe of Ann’s wounds before hurrying behind a nearby statue. Mishima pushed the ball up into the air. As it soared upwards, Kamoshida’s gluttonous form sprung into the air as he spiked the ball down towards the Thieves.

The impact of his hand to the ball made a deafening crack. The volleyball crashed into the floor with a vast explosion, levelling the field around them.

“H-holy shit.” Ryuji gasped breathlessly, barely evading the blast from behind a pile of nearby rubble. The statues around the throne room crumbled around them.

“We won’t survive another attack like that.” Akira cautioned anxiously.

“I’ve got your next ball right here, King Kamoshida!”

The cognitive Shiho Suzui dressed in a provocative bunny costume strode towards Kamoshida with glee. She giggled seductively beneath the demon’s lascivious gaze.

“Mm-hmm, what a devoted slave you are Suzui. I’ll be sure to reward you later.” He crooned.

“Bastard…!” Ann cried tearfully.

“Take her down.” Akira directed. Ann turned to him with instinctive shock, but he gave her a fierce look of resolve.

“We can’t let her tee him up for a strike, or we’re finished.”

“We have to make him pay.” Ann nodded miserably. With a pirouette, Ann clicked her fingers above her head and Carmen released hot embers towards the cognitive Shiho.

Simultaneously, Ryuji summoned Captain Kidd to blast the cognitive copycat with a gunpowder blast. The two attacks engulfed the girl’s body, destroying her utterly.

“Mona.” Akira barked, turning to his companion. “Do you think you can get the crown?”

Morgana stared up at the crown atop Kamoshida’s head, several meters above ground. He traced a path up a nearby statue to the balcony: the height was close enough to reach the crown.

Morgana nodded, before dashing towards the statue. Akira turned his sights back on Kamoshida, now left unable to attack them without his cognitive slave.

“Another!” Kamoshida roared with a crack of his whip. “Bring me more slaves!”

“I’m coming, o noble King Kamoshida!”

The voice sent a chill down his spine. The cognitive clone of Sumire hurried to Kamoshida’s side.

“I’m running out of steam…!” Ann shouted, gasping for breaths as Carmen carried weak embers in her palms.

“Arsène!” Akira summoned, as his twilight companion appeared by his side. He gestured towards the cognitive version of Sumire.

But as he stared at the girl, his voice hitched in his throat.

“Pathetic worm!” Kamoshida taunted. “This is the end for you!”

Akira snapped out of his moment of indecision as he watched the volleyball soar into the sky. Kamoshida vaulted into the air to deliver a powerful spike.

“Joker!”

Ryuji dove into Akira, pushing him to the ground as the impact of the volleyball levelled the arena once more. Akira felt a searing pain as the wave of fiery energy tossed him backwards.

Akira wrenched open his heavy eyes and staggered to his feet. Ryuji lay collapsed by his side, unconscious.

“That punk only went and got taken out because of your screw-up, some leader you are!” Kamoshida jeered with a despicable grimace.

Akira grit his teeth as he watched the cognitive Sumire fetch another volleyball. His hand wavered above his pistol, but he could not bring himself to wield it. Instead, he rummaged for a spirit restorative and lobbed it towards Ann.

“Take care of her, I’ll keep Kamoshida busy!”

Akira clicked his fingers and Arsène appeared once more. He circled the demon; with a flick of each wrist, Arsène unleashed a bolt of black energy towards Kamoshida.

He watched as Shadow Kamoshida recoiled from each attack. The monster turned towards the cognitive Sumire to receive another serve, but the clone was immolated by a fierce inferno. Ann stood strong with Carmen alongside her.

“You bastards! I’m the king, it’s my right to rule over you!”

“Not anymore!” Morgana taunted, leaping from his vantage point on the balcony. With a swift slash, he knocked the crown from Kamoshida’s skull as it clattered to the ground alongside the thieves.

“Graaagh! No!” Kamoshida roared, crumbling to the ground despondently.

“L-let’s finish this bastard!”

Ryuji coughed weakly, pulling himself up onto one knee with Ann’s support. He grabbed his club excitedly.

“Go all-out!”

The thieves dashed into action with their weapons brandished. Darting around Kamoshida’s vulnerable form, they unleashed a combined, frenzied attack.

Kamoshida cried out weakly as Ryuji, Ann and Morgana disengaged. Akira zipped into the air from his grappling hook as he flipped backwards, wielding his pistol as he fell in front of Kamoshida’s feverish eyes.

“You’re through.”

With a single pull of the trigger, Akira executed Kamoshida’s demonic form. The bullet ripped through the demon’s skull, and sickly black miasma rippled from the open wound, rapidly engulfing the monstrosity. He dissipated, leaving the feeble, cowering form of Suguru Kamoshida, returned to his gaudy human form once more.

He crawled away from the thieves with a whimper, backing up to an outdoor balcony. The thieves approached him, led by a vengeful Ann with blue embers engulfing her hand.

“Y-you can’t kill me! Please, I beg you! I’ll do anything!” Kamoshida begged, peering over his shoulder at the vast distance to the ground from their elevated position.

“You disgust me.” Ann said with disdain. “You’re looking at the same sight Shiho did, but she didn’t have a choice. She couldn’t beg or plead; you didn’t give her the chance!”

The crackling fires in Ann’s hand roared. Akira and Ryuji simply watched, knowing that words would no longer dissuade her.

She swiped her hand forwards, and Carmen released a fireball towards Kamoshida.

He cried out pitifully, but the blast landed just past him to the side, serving only to intimidate him further.

“Confess your crimes and atone for your sins. That’s the only fate a pig like you deserves.” She spat.

“Y-you’re right. I’ll return to myself in the real world.” Shadow Kamoshida nodded with tearful remorse. A blue light wrapped around his form, and he vanished from the Palace.

But the respite was short-lived: the ground beneath them shuddered as rubble began to fall from the ceiling. The Palace was collapsing.

“Come on! Let’s grab the treasure and get out of here!” Morgana shrieked.

* * *

The Phantom Thieves inaugural mission had been a success. Their escape from the palace was tight, but after a mad dash, the group emerged in the alley outside Shujin once more. Akira held Kamoshida’s treasure, an Olympic gold medal, in hand: proof that they had made an impact on the man’s cognition. Kamoshida's distorted cognition made more and more sense to him as he turned the medal in his hand: the former Olympian considered himself above everyone else at Shujin because of his reputation as a gold medalist. The medal was a representation of his superiority, in his eyes, much like a king views his crown.

Nevertheless, Akira was restless with nerves. Kamoshida was absent from school ever since their victory in the Castle of Lust and talks of his and Ryuji’s expulsion had supposedly been put on hold, but it was impossible to be certain what impact their success would have. Morgana simply advised the group to be patient and try to relax.

Akira stepped out of the front doors of Shujin at the end of the school day on Saturday the 23rd. He flicked through his diary as he walked, rereading his account of the day they stole the treasure as if seeking a clue as to when the change of heart would occur.

He was so absorbed in his diary that he didn’t notice the calls of the familiar redhead until she hurried to his side.

“Senpai!”

“O-oh, Sumire! Sorry, I was distracted.”

“T-that’s okay.” She responded, but her nerves were evident. “I just feel like I haven’t seen much of you this week.”

Akira frowned with guilt. The mission to stop Kamoshida had dominated his attention since the start of the week, and his concerns about the change of heart continued to plague his thoughts.

“You’re right. I’m sorry, Sumire. I’ve just had a lot on my mind recently.”

Sumire gave a silent nod, her eyes still fixed on the pavement below. No doubt, Sumire’s mind had also been troubled with anxiety. The incident with Shiho was barely a week ago; she must’ve been lonely without her or himself to spend time with during school.

Akira took Sumire’s hand in his own with a determined gaze.

“Sumire, I want to apologise for being so busy this week. Are you busy tomorrow?”

Sumire looked at him in surprise but shook her head.

“Okay. I’ll come and pick you up at your place tomorrow. We’ll go on a date.”

“H-huh!?” Sumire yelped, her face flushing a bright red. “A d-date? Y-you mean like, a-as a-“

“Is that okay?”

The girl retreated into her scarf with a bashful glance. “I’m so embarrassed…” she mumbled beneath the soft fabric.

Akira eyed her patiently, but Sumire leaned into him and nodded.

“I-I’d like that, S-senpai.”

* * *

The next morning, Akira hurried to Shibuya excitedly. Sojiro tried to rope him into helping at Leblanc, but when the Trickster confessed to scheduling a date with Sumire, his guardian merely waved him off with a sly grin. He even offered to keep an eye on Morgana, despite the cat’s insistence that he could look after himself.

He knocked on the door to the Yoshizawa household, dressed in a black sweater, blue jeans, and the charcoal coat he’d been gifted. After a short pause, Shinichi opened the door with a warm smile and beckoned him inside.

Akira joined Sumire’s father at the kitchen table; Mrs. Yoshizawa drifted around the room taking care of miscellaneous chores, humming to herself.

“That reminds me,” Akira noted, making small talk with Shinichi while he waited for Sumire, “I was planning on visiting the studio soon, I have your generous gift after all.” He gestured to the VIP pass kept safely in his coat pocket.

“I look forward to seeing you there! We record mornings and evenings every day; have you decided what filming you want to see?”

“I was hoping to ask for your recommendation.” Akira queried.

“Well then, we’ve got an interesting line-up of guests tomorrow evening.” Shinichi mused. “There’s an interview with a popular idol who’s promoting her new single, followed by a discussion with Akechi-kun about the ongoing mental shutdown mystery.”

Akira’s ears perked at the sound of the detective’s name. Their last meeting still weighed on his mind; perhaps it could be an opportunity to learn more about his theories.

“Okay, tomorrow it is.” Akira nodded with a smile. “I’ll see if Sumire is interested in going as well.”

“Sorry for the wait!” Sumire called out, as if on cue.

As she turned the corner, Akira’s eyes widened with awe. He’d only ever seen Sumire in her school uniform, casualwear, or the drab hospital gown from their time at Shibuya General, but she stood in front of him in a beautiful violet dress, dark grey tights and black flats. She ran a hand through her hair nervously.

“You look wonderful Sumi!” Mrs. Yoshizawa doted with a giddy smile, comforting Sumire with gentle hands on her shoulders.

“We’re entrusting her safety to you, Akira.” Shinichi said. His tone was kind and pleasant, but Akira could feel the weight of his sentiment regardless. He nodded firmly.

Sumire’s parents waved the pair off as Akira led Sumire by the hand back towards the station. They walked side by side, hands clasped together contentedly.

“When are you going to tell me where we’re going Senpai?” Sumire questioned curiously as the pair stepped into the northbound train carriage on the Fukutoshin Line.

“It’s a surprise.” He teased, squeezing her hand playfully.

Thirty minutes later, they arrived at their destination: Ikebukuro. Akira led Sumire to Sunshine City; a large building complex. Akira had been here once before, long ago when he was a kid during a visit to Tokyo with his parents. His father had been in Tokyo for work, but his mother insisted on turning it into a family trip.

He scanned the corridors of the shopping complex with familiarity, until he spotted a sign highlighting their destination. The pair turned the corner, as Sumire tilted her head in surprise.

“An aquarium?”

“I was surprised too.” Akira nodded. “I came here with my parents when I was a little kid, and I remember being amazed that there was an aquarium in the middle of a shopping centre like this.”

“It’s definitely unexpected.” Sumire nodded with agreement, but the girl’s excitement was visible on her face.

“Lead the way.” Akira grinned, granting Sumire free reign to explore. The Trickster covered the entrance fare while Sumire hurried forward, leaning into the glass panel to watch the creatures on the other side. Schools of narrow fish zipped through the water and Sumire tracked them with eager eyes.

“I could watch them forever! The way they dart through the water is so graceful… Aren’t the movements of living creatures fascinating?”

“Yeah, it’s unlike anything I’ve seen before.” Akira said, standing by Sumire’s side watching the fish. Sumire was right: the motions of the fish were mesmerising.

“W-woah! Look over there!” Sumire pointed with a gasp as a long shark dipped through the crowd of fish. Its caudal fin swatted back and forth, propelling the predator forward as it circled the bottom of the tank.

“Don’t get too close, or it may go after you!” Akira teased, spooking Sumire with a heavy pat on her shoulders. The redhead jumped with astonishment, scowling at Akira with a smirk.

They continued exploring the aquarium, observing all manner of curious creatures including stingrays, axolotl and jellyfish. Sumire stared at each new creature with fascination, before the allure of another tank seized her attention.

“I wish I could move as gracefully as the animals here in my performance.” Sumire mused.

The thought reminded Akira, as he checked the time on his phone.

“We’d better hurry onwards.”

“Hmm?” Sumire probed with intrigue.

Akira led Sumire outdoors to a new assortment of exhibits. In an instant, Sumire was enraptured by a flock of animals, the horde of black and white shuffled across an icy exhibit towards an employee with a bucket in hand.

“P-penguins!?” Sumire gasped.

“Want to try feeding them?”

Sumire looked at Akira with awe, nodding wildly as they hurried towards the group of penguins. An employee handed the pair a bucket of small fish and the penguins quickly crowded around them at the edge of the pen.

“They must be hungry!” Sumire giggled, tossing a fish from the bucket into the group of impatient beaks. “Don’t worry! There’s plenty here for all of you.”

Sumire laughed with joyful glee as the noisy birds tussled over the fish. Akira watched the girl’s jubilant face with a smile as she passed the bucket to him. He grabbed a fish and tossed it high up into the air.

The penguins wrestled over each other clumsily, but one prevailed, seizing the fish in its beak.

“They’re not as graceful as the fish, are they?” Akira chuckled.

“Not quite, but they’re certainly determined!”

Once they had emptied the bucket of fish, they visited the gift shop at Sumire’s insistence. Akira and Sumire each picked out a present for the other: Akira bought Sumire a globe filled with mock fish and glitter which darted around the sphere even when still, while Sumire picked up a large yellow sea slug plushie with a cute expression for Akira.

They left the aquarium just after 2pm, hands clasped together as they recalled their favourite sights. Akira led Sumire to their next destination, stepping into a lift.

As the lift began to ascend, the bright lights fell dim. Sumire yelped in surprise, until she noticed the wide array of patterns and constellations that appeared in the darkness.

“Oh wow!” Sumire said, starry-eyed.

“You’ve not even seen the best part yet.” Akira chuckled.

Passing through the reception, they entered a planetarium. The room was dark, lit only by the immense constellations visible on the ceiling.

Akira escorted Sumire to the centre of the room where a series of turquoise ‘galaxy seats’ were lined up beneath the stars, each big enough for two people. He dumped his bags by his feet and sprawled out on the seat. Sumire joined him, lying over his arm and resting her head against his chest.

They watched the ceiling quietly as the starry sky transformed into the face of a vast planet, mesmerised by the shifting scenes.

“It’s so beautiful…” Sumire whispered as the purple light from a galaxy overhead illuminated her soft features.

“Not as beautiful as you.” Akira teased, eliciting a furious blush from the girl.

“S-Senpai! You’re so mean… I feel like I’m melting.” she pouted.

Akira gave her shoulder a light squeeze, breathing a relaxed sigh. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed spending time with Sumire during the crisis with Kamoshida, let alone taking any time to relax.

Both observed the cosmos in a peaceful, content silence, comforted by each other’s company.

* * *

By the time Akira and Sumire had roused each other from their comfortable harmony in the planetarium, it was already the early evening. They left Sunshine City, stepping out into a chilly Tokyo evening. Sumire’s hand was still clasped firmly to Akira’s as they walked.

“Senpai? Can we go to one more place before we go home?”

It was Akira’s turn to look at her curiously.

“Did you have somewhere in mind?”

Sumire nodded, leading him down the pavement by the hand.

After a brief walk, they arrived at a small park just nearby. Passing through a tunnel of trees, they stepped out into a stone courtyard with a rectangular pond on the far side.

Sumire released Akira’s hand and placed her bags beneath a nearby bench. She turned to Akira with an embarrassed look, avoiding his eyeline.

“U-um, the other day…” she trailed off. “You mentioned wanting to see my routine.”

Akira’s eyes turned wide as he understood Sumire’s inference.

“I’m not really dressed properly for it, but I can show you a little…” Sumire continued, placing a hairband in her mouth. She tied back her hair into a ponytail and removed her glasses, handing them to Akira. He accepted them carefully and took a seat on the bench as Sumire adopted her starting form in the centre of the stone courtyard with a raised hand.

Sumire closed her eyes. Then, as if in response to a signal only she heard, she began to move.

Her motions were deliberately slowed to adapt to the violet dress she wore in place of her gymnastics uniform, but she drifted around the courtyard with a measured grace. Sumire waved her arm as she spun with a pirouette, mimicking the flourishes of an invisible gymnastics ribbon in her hand. She sprung from the ground lightly with each of her steps, leaning into each motion and extension with every part of her body in unison.

Akira simply watched, entranced by Sumire’s graceful dance. He stared at her with unwavering focus, utterly enraptured by her spell. They’d spent the day watching the graceful, fluid movements of animals at the aquarium, and the radiant beauty of space at the planetarium, but in the empty courtyard, the sight of Sumire’s routine far exceeded either experience.

After only a minute, she held her pose and relaxed. Her performance ended, and her bashful personality returned.

“I-I wanted you to see my efforts, to watch me and… have eyes only for me.” Sumire mumbled, wringing her hands together nervously.

Akira stood from the bench silently and embraced Sumire in a tight hug.

“A-ah!”

Sumire melted into Akira’s embrace, leaning into him with her hands on his back.

“Akira-senpai… I-I, I lo-“

Sumire wrestled with her nerves as she strained against the words in her mouth. Akira chuckled, tightening his hold on the girl in his arms.

“I love you too, Sumire.”

* * *

Sumire had needed a moment to relax after their mutual confessions; the flurry of nerves and anxiety gradually faded. Akira and Sumire walked back to Ikebukuro station hand-in-hand, each wearing a bashful but happy expression on their face.

As they stood by the train platform, Akira recognised Sumire trembling beside him. He quickly recognised the reason; he withdrew his arms from the sleeves of his heavy coat and draped it over Sumire’s shoulders.

“Senpai? Won’t you be cold?” Sumire questioned with a guilty pout.

“Don’t worry, I’ve still got my sweater.” Akira shook his head. “You can return it to me tomorrow morning.”

Sumire nodded silently, wrapping his coat around herself tightly.

The return trip to Shibuya went by in a flash: Akira listened to music on his earbuds with an arm around Sumire’s shoulder, while Sumire snoozed in her seat using Akira’s coat as a blanket.

“Thank you for today, Senpai. I had… a really, really great time.” Sumire said, standing in the open doorframe of the Yoshizawa household. She leaned forward with a bow and a sincere smile.

“Me too,” said Akira, reciprocating her smile. “we’ll do this again soon. Say hi to your parents for me.”

Sumire nodded as Akira turned away with a wave.

“I love you, Sumire. Good night.”

Sumire blushed fiercely as she felt her mother’s eyes on her back, stammering an ‘I love you, too’ before closing the front door.

Dinner was an excitable interrogation: Mrs. Yoshizawa probed Sumire for news of their date, which Sumire was happy to reminisce over, albeit with an embarrassed omission of particular details. Shinichi listened with a smile, recognising Akira’s charcoal coat which Sumire still wore over her shoulders without realising.

When she returned to her room, Sumire’s exhaustion caught up with her. She fell onto her bed wearily, sinking into the comfort of her duvet and Akira’s coat.

Until she felt something hard against her side from the coat’s inside pocket.

Sumire reached a hand towards the object, pulling the black diary from the coat pocket. She’d seen Akira writing in the small notebook before, but she didn’t know its purpose. She opened to a page at random, glancing at Akira’s handwritten account of their trip to Kichijoji.

Hurriedly, she shut the diary, racked with guilt over having breached Akira’s privacy so brazenly. She sighed heavily and stowed the diary back into the pocket.

Sumire lay on her bed for short while, but curiosity danced at the edge of her mind. Akira had been so distant in the week before today and he’d eluded all of her attempts to figure out his reasons.

_I've just had a lot on my mind recently._

Akira's words from the day before echoed in her head. She wanted to support him; to be there for him when he needed help. The diary taunted her from beneath the lining of the coat.

She reached for the diary once more and turned it in her hands. With a heavy, reluctant sigh, she opened it once more, glancing at the top of the page.

Monday, April 11th. Akira Kurusu’s first day at Shujin Academy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! There was another scene I had planned for this chapter, but given that I was already nearing 7000 words in this chapter, I figured I'd save it for chapter 10 and take the time to properly develop it, so the next chapter should be an interesting one! Definitely returning to more unique story beats now.
> 
> Notes:  
> \- The idol Shinichi mentions should be familiar to those who have played other Persona games beyond Persona 5. Look forward to that!
> 
> \- Akira and Sumire's trip to Ikebukuro is actually inspired by my own visit about four or five years ago. I'd initially gone there to see the Pokémon center, but ended up staying the whole day when I found an aquarium and planetarium hidden away in this vast shopping centre. Normally those kinds of attractions would be their own thing where I'm from, so finding them inside a shopping complex left an impression.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kasumi copes with the struggles of her life confined in Shibuya General Hospital. Dr. Maruki receives a new client.

Kasumi Yoshizawa dragged her eyelids open, taking in the dim hospital room as she roused from her slumber. The young girl blinked wearily as she shrugged off her sleepiness but lay still beneath the thin duvet. Her eyes were sunken and grey as she stared blankly at the ceiling.

Kasumi reached for her phone, wincing as she observed the bright screen.

_Thursday, April 21 st._

Both Sumire and her father had visited the day before; Shinichi brought her some personal effects from home and asked about her condition before he had to leave early for work. Sumire stayed with Kasumi for longer, and the sisters had discussed their usual conversation topics: how Sumire was settling into school, her training sessions with Coach Hiraguchi, and of course, Kasumi’s physical rehabilitation.

In honesty, Kasumi hadn’t expected Sumire’s visit. She’d previously seen her sister on the 15th, but Sumire had seemed more dour than usual that day. Something had clearly been weighing on her mind, but Sumire insisted that it was of no concern; that she didn’t want to burden her sister.

Kasumi was unsure whether Sumire would make time to visit after that, and even after yesterday, she hesitated to guess when her sister would next visit.

The young girl breathed a heavy sigh. The truth was, her life had fallen into a gloomy routine of waiting: waiting for her chance to return to gymnastics, waiting for her family to visit, waiting for anything that would free her from the confinement of the hospital.

 _I’ve already been here for over a month_. Kasumi thought to herself bitterly. A whole month, and she was still too feeble to do anything by herself.

There was a knock on the door. Nurse Uehara: Kasumi’s primary carer, peered into the gloomy hospital room, light spilling in from the corridor behind her. Kasumi dragged herself upright, leaning her back against the frame of the bed.

“Yoshizawa-san, your morning rehabilitation session is starting soon. Would you like to me to help you into your wheelchair?”

“Oh, no I’m okay Uehara-san! I’m quite thirsty though, could you get me some water?” Kasumi replied cheerfully.

“Of course. One moment.”

The nurse slipped back into the corridor and the door shut behind her. Shrouded in darkness once more, Kasumi’s cheerful façade faded. She grasped a heavy leg with both of her hands, lifting it off the mattress and onto the floor beside her bed.

After repeating the process with her other leg, she pulled her wheelchair next to her and shuffled towards the edge of the bed. With a push, she lifted her weight towards the seat of the wheelchair and grasped it with one hand.

But the sudden weight on one side of the wheelchair caused it to topple, bringing Kasumi down to the ground with a hard thud. She groaned and clutched her aching head, sprawled across the cold floor.

_No, please…!_

Kasumi hurriedly put the wheelchair upright and dragged herself into the seat with her hands. Sweat drenched her face as she fought against the weight of her inert legs, pulling herself up into the wheelchair. She adjusted herself in the seat and attempted to regain her composure moments before Nurse Uehara returned to the room.

“Yoshizawa-san, are you okay? I thought I heard a noise.”

“Oh, no need to worry, I forgot to push the brake on the wheelchair, so when I sat down, I rolled into the bedside table.” Kasumi fibbed with a chipper smile.

The nurse seemingly bought her excuse, handing her the cup of water and wheeling her out of the room.

As always, the trip to the physical therapy rooms filled Kasumi with dread. While she knew the sessions were important if she was to return to gymnastics, they were exhausting and the pain in her legs left Kasumi in tears by the end of each session.

But worst of all, she was wheeled to the therapy rooms at the same time, going the same route, passing the same people. Kasumi herself had insisted on frequent physiotherapy so that she could return to gymnastics as quickly as possible, but in the moments between her hospital room and the therapy room, she felt an intense yearning for control.

Today was different. As Nurse Uehara wheeled Kasumi into the therapy room, she stared wide-eyed at an unfamiliar girl trembling between a pair of parallel bars, fiercely straining to keep her legs balanced. Her black ponytail shined under the lights, and her face was slick with sweat and tears.

She took one final step, about halfway through the bars, before she shook her head with her eyes shut intensely. Her therapist brought a wheelchair beside her and the girl collapsed with an exhausted gasp.

“That was amazing…” Kasumi praised, unable to withhold her admiration.

The black-haired girl looked at Kasumi with timid astonishment, but her features relaxed slightly when she recognised that Kasumi too was bound to a wheelchair. She gave a soft, sympathetic smile.

The physiotherapist wiped down the exercise equipment the other girl had been using while Nurse Uehara took up a position behind her wheelchair. She began to wheel her out of the room before Kasumi chimed in.

“U-um, would you mind staying? I feel like I’ll be more determined if I have you watching me.”

The other girl stared at Kasumi in surprise, before peering up towards the nurse. After a pause, she gave a quiet nod.

Kasumi began her session with some light stretches and contractions. Even mild exercises were challenging for the young girl, she grit her teeth to help cope with the discomfort in her legs as she alternated between straightening her ankles and relaxing.

She attempted some standing leg raises, using a metal frame to support her balance, but the trembling of her legs made it difficult to remain stable.

Lastly, Kasumi sat between the parallel bars the other girl had concluded her session with. She lifted herself from the wheelchair and gripped the bars feverishly. She took one heavy step forward, followed by another, gradually increasing the load on her upper body as she felt her legs give way to an increasingly debilitating pain.

Eventually, the pain became too much. Kasumi collapsed into the wheelchair once more having conquered about half of the distance covered by the bars.

“You’re very determined.” The girl commended, reciprocating Kasumi’s praise for her own session. Kasumi offered a weary smile.

The two girls were united side-by-side by their carers. The black-haired girl offered a hand.

“My name is Shiho.” She said with a smile.

* * *

In the days following their meeting, Shiho and Kasumi became fast friends. Their rehabilitation became a shared mission, both girls spurring each other on as they walked the long road to recovery.

Furthermore, Shiho became a welcome respite from the loneliness of her hospital room. The two girls sat together in Kasumi’s hospital room one morning. Shiho confided in Kasumi about the cause of her injuries: how she had attempted to take her own life. It shocked Kasumi to hear at first, but she could see a bitter sadness in Shiho’s eyes. She didn’t dare ask what had happened.

When Kasumi mentioned that she had intended to begin at Shujin Academy a week prior, Shiho’s face lit up with a sudden realisation.

“You must be Sumire’s older sister, I thought you reminded me of someone I’d met recently.”

Kasumi laughed internally at the irony of Shiho’s remark. She could recall countless times that Sumire had sulked when others referred to her as ‘Kasumi’s sister’, but Kasumi could never recall a time when the roles had been reversed. The phrase ‘Sumire’s sister’ sounded alien to her ears, true as it was.

“Yes.” Kasumi nodded. “We both share a dream of become renowned gymnasts. That’s why I have to get back on my feet as quickly as possible.”

“I hope you can perform again soon. I think Sumire relies on you a lot.”

The sentiment hung in the room until a gentle knock on the door turned the girls’ attention. Shinichi Yoshizawa entered the room quietly with a warm smile.

“Hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Not at all.” Shiho smiled. “A friend of mine will be visiting soon so I’d best return to my room. She doesn’t have the best sense of direction, and I don’t want her getting lost.”

Shiho waved Kasumi goodbye and wheeled herself out of the room, leaving Kasumi alone with her father. He sat beside the bed as Kasumi pulled herself out of her own wheelchair and under the bedsheets.

“I thought Sumi was coming today as well.” Kasumi mumbled despondently.

“She’s on a date today if you can believe it. You remember Akira?”

Kasumi nodded, picturing the boy from the incident in her mind.

“I do. They must be happy together.” She mused, hiding the faint hint of jealousy in her voice.

“Truth be told, it’s the happiest I’ve seen Sumire in years. I think she’s finally finding herself and learning to be happy.”

 _Of course._ Kasumi thought. _She doesn’t rely on me at all._

“But how are you, Kasumi? Is there anything you need?” Shinichi asked earnestly.

“Oh, no. No need to worry about me, I’m fine.” Kasumi beamed with a jolly expression. “I just wish I could move around a bit more freely is all.”

“Try not to push yourself too hard. Don’t forget, it’s not about how much therapy you put yourself through, but the quality.” Shinichi said.

Kasumi nodded with a frown; her eyes glued to the floor.

Shinichi ordered some soba for the two to share, which served as a welcome respite from the bland hospital meals Kasumi had grown accustomed to. They chatted until the late afternoon, when Shinichi glanced at the time on his wristwatch and stood from his seat.

“I’m sorry Kasumi, I’ve got a studio recording to attend. Will you be alright on your own?”

“Of course, thank you for spending time with me.” Kasumi smiled.

“Alright, if you insist. Give me a call if there’s anything you need.”

Shinichi returned her smile with one of his own before exiting the room, shutting the door behind him.

The room fell quiet once more. Kasumi reached towards the curtain behind her bed and tugged at the end with her fingertips, dragging the curtain shut. Pampered by shadow once more, she curled into the bedsheets.

Her eyes wandered to the bouquet of flowers that still sat on top of her bedside table. The edges of the petals had curled and browned as the blossoms began to wither.

Kasumi buried her teary face into the pillow, smothering the deluge of tears that dropped from her cheeks.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Kasumi wheeled herself down the hospital corridor. She’d considered it in the past, shortly after the doctors recommended a meeting following the incident, but she had insisted that such a meeting would be unnecessary. She was strong, after all.

Kasumi glanced at the placards beside each door with sullen eyes, pushing herself forward, until she came to a stop outside an office. Room 5-C.

The girl leaned forward, knocking on the door weakly.

“Co-“

A young man inside caught himself mid-phrase before falling silent. Kasumi heard footsteps approach from the other side of the door before it opened in front of her.

Dr. Takuto Maruki stood before her. He waved her in with a welcoming smile.

“Thank you for coming to see me, Yoshizawa-san. Please, come on in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Two chapters in one day, albeit this is a pretty short one. This and the previous chapter serve as a transition from the Kamoshida arc to a new arc following the first new palace I have planned for this story. I won't say much more than that just yet, but the next chapter (which will be closer in length to the previous chapters rather than this one) should answer some initial questions.
> 
> Also a huge thank you to everyone who has read the story up to this point. My plans for this story were hazy at best when I began last month; it's crazy to think that I've now hit ten chapters, with many more to come as I explore this new story arc. To everyone who's engaged with this story, you have my sincere gratitude!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira and Sumire watch a live TV show recording, featuring a unique idol and a cunning detective. A new Palace is discovered.

“This is quite the operation.” Akira mused, staring wide-eyed at the complex buttons and dials in the studio room. Several small monitors covered the wall, and a series of workers were busy testing graphics and running quality control. Sumire stood beside him, staring absentmindedly.

“So, you work with the vision mixer in here rather than out on the floor I presume.”

“Yes, that’s right. The floor manager handles things in the studio, and we’re in close contact throughout the show.” Shinichi nodded, gesturing to the headset and microphone hanging around his neck. “I didn’t realise you knew a thing or two about TV production.”

“My father worked for my local TV station back home. I know something about the process, but this is my first time behind the scenes.” The boy responded.

“Is that so? Maybe we should bring you in as an intern!” Shinichi laughed in jest. His eyes peered to a bright red digital clock high up on the wall.

“The first segment is about to begin. Sumire, do you remember the way to Studio 1?”

The young redhead jumped as her father’s inquiry snapped her out of her wandering thoughts.

“O-oh! Uh, yes, I’ll lead the way.” She nodded quickly.

Sumire led Akira out of the small mixing room as Shinichi shut the door behind them to prepare for the show. They walked side-by-side silently.

 _It doesn’t make any sense…_ Sumire told herself. She still felt awful for betraying Akira’s trust, having read his diary the night before, but she struggled to imagine what she’d read as anything more than a fantastical story. A castle formed by distorted cognition? The power of rebellion made manifest? A _talking cat?_

What she’d read in his diary dominated her thoughts throughout the school day, and even now as they walked the studio corridors, she struggled to comprehend that it could be anything more than a work of fiction. But she couldn’t ignore how the bizarre story answered so many of her questions: the way Akira had intervened that day with her and Mr. Kamoshida outside the P.E. faculty office; the incident with Shiho, both events made much more sense if things really were as Akira had written in his diary.

“Something on your mind?”

His simple question shattered her internal thoughts as she stared at him in panic. Sumire stammered for an excuse.

“A-ah! I um, I was thinking that maybe we could visit Kasumi on the way home.”

“That’s a good idea.” Akira nodded warmly. “I’ve not had the chance to visit her in some time, and I’m sure she’d welcome the company. We can introduce her to Morgana as well.”

As if on cue, the friendly black cat poked his head out from Akira’s bag. The Trickster scratched under his chin.

“You’re keen to meet Kasumi, right Mona?”

The black cat meowed a happy response. Previously this sort of interaction would have elicited a cheery giggle, but now it only sent Sumire’s mind racing with more questions.

The couple slipped through the heavy double doors to the studio and hustled into a pair of seats in the third row. A few minutes passed until the lights around them dimmed. A pair of hosts sat on a sofa on the stage, adjusting their posture as the floor manager called out.

“On air in 5… 4… 3…”

The male presenter took a deep breath and struck a large, toothy smile for the camera.

“Good evening Japan! Welcome to the nation’s favourite talk show with your two favourite hosts. My name is Tatsuo Kitamura…”

“And I’m Aika Uchiyama!” the female hosted proclaimed, seamlessly picking up on the cue from her co-host. “We’ve got two very special guests for you today who I’m sure need no introduction. Let’s waste no time bringing out our first. Many of you will know her as Risette; the nation’s favourite idol!”

“I can feel my heartbeat quickening already!” Kitamura jested with a flashy smile. “Here to promote her latest single, it’s Rise Kujikawa!”

The crowd around Akira erupted in euphoric cheers and screams as the stage lights flashed with colourful spotlights. An excitable young girl in her early twenties skipped onto the stage donned in a vibrant blue dress. Rise waved her hands joyfully to the live audience with a wink. She hopped onto the adjacent sofa smiling at the host, still offering sparse waves to the crowd as they gradually began to settle.

“Wow, what a reception! You’ve presented quite the challenge to our future guests by igniting such a powerful response from our audience!”

“It’s actually quite the relief!” Rise responded, stroking one of her pigtails with a hand. “I was always worried that if I returned, my fans would be upset over how I’ve changed since my debut, so it’s reassuring to see that my fans are so welcoming.”

She smiled prettily and the crowd erupted in cheers of support and adoration once more.

“Are you familiar with her Senpai?” Sumire asked, leaning in towards Akira with a whisper.

“I’ve heard a few of her songs, yeah. She’s got a good voice.” Akira said honestly. He gave Sumire’s hand a gentle squeeze and leaned in with a teasing expression. “You’d better not be feeling jealous.”

Sumire puffed out her cheeks, shaking her head with narrowed eyes.

“So Rise-chan,” probed Uchiyama, “tell us about your new single, ‘Silver’, which is coming out later this week, right?”

“That’s right!” Rise chirped. “It’s quite different from the style of music I’ve made in the past, but it’s actually a really special song to me. As I’m sure you remember, I took a break from my career a few years ago because it was making me quite stressed.”

Rise coiled her hair around a finger as she spoke, a more serious expression appearing on her face.

“I struggled a lot with identity and self-confidence when I was younger, and even though I was widely recognised because of my career as an idol, I was actually quite lonely. That’s why this new song is so significant to me: it’s a declaration, not only to the world, but to the old Risette. This song represents my true self, and I’m happy that I can finally share it with you all.”

The crowd burst into applause once more as Rise finished her explanation with an innocent smile. Akira peered to Sumire, who was now watching the young idol with a thoughtful stare.

“How heartfelt, Rise-chan! The story nearly brings a tear to my eye.” Kitamura praised, brushing a melodramatic finger beneath his eye. “It’s certainly a fantastic song; fans and critics alike are expecting it to top the charts in the days following its release, but I must ask, what was your inspiration behind the song’s name: Silver?”

“O-oh!” Rise exclaimed with a blush. “Well, without going into too much detail, it’s an homage to the person who helped me overcome my doubts about my past self. They’re very dear to me; I wouldn’t be the Rise you see today without their support!”

“Oho! Could this be the rumoured boyfriend the tabloids have been speculating?” Uchiyama pressed, eager to push Rise for an answer.

“I’m not here to discuss details of my personal life I’m afraid.” Rise teased, deftly avoiding the presenter’s question. “But I will say that my new song is full of love and emotion, so I hope you all enjoy listening to it when it comes out.”

“I have no doubt we will!” the male presenter added. “Rise Kujikawa’s new single ‘Silver’ will be available later this week: here’s an exclusive look at the star’s new music video.”

The screen to the side of the stage displaying the live output transitioned into a clip from Rise’s music video. The floor manager called out orders as the talent on stage relaxed and made small talk.

“Back in 5… 4… 3…”

Cheers filled the room as the camera panned around the stage.

“I for one cannot wait.” Uchiyama lauded with a glossy smile. “But of course, Rise-chan isn’t our only special guest tonight. He’s becoming something of a regular on our talk show, and tonight he’s here to discuss mysteries and urban legends! It’s the Detective Prince: Goro Akechi!”

The familiar young detective stepped onto the stage, dressed in a tan school uniform. He squinted against the bright studio lights and the barrage of applause as he waved to the audience. Akechi sat down beside Rise, adjusting his messy brown hair with a gloved hand.

“Akechi-kun, thank you for joining us yet again! Is this your 3rd appearance on the show or the 4th?” The male presenter began.

“Truthfully, I’ve lost count at this point.” He chuckled. “But your invitations are always welcome: I do very much enjoy discussing the theories I have on my mind.”

“And of course, your appearance today is especially exciting with our other special guest Rise-chan here. Correct me if I’m wrong, Rise-chan, but you’re friends with the previous ‘Detective Prince’ Naoto Shirogane, are you not? What is your impression of Akechi-kun?”

“That’s right.” Rise nodded keenly. “Naoto-kun and I are close friends: we still keep in touch even though we’re both busy with our respective careers. But we did our own share of sleuthing in the past. As for Akechi-kun, I hope to see him honour the reputation that Naoto-kun so thoroughly deserved.”

Rise holds her forefinger to her temple with a cheeky grin, eliciting a chuckle from Akechi.

“Well then, I hope I can meet the expectations you have for me, Ms. Kujikawa. And who knows, perhaps you can aid me as well.”

“So Akechi-kun, when we last spoke you discussed the ongoing ‘mental shutdown cases’: a series of mysterious incidents happening around Tokyo. Have you made any breakthroughs in your investigation?

“I’m sorry to disappoint.” Akechi frowned. “I haven’t made any developments that I can speak about freely at this time. But I did prepare a topic I believe to be an engaging one, and I hope Ms. Kujikawa can offer some personal insight.”

“How fascinating!” Kitamura gasped with exaggerated interest. “The floor is yours Akechi-kun.”

“The other day, I had a most interesting conversation with a young man, I suppose you would call him a friend of mine.”

Akira’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. He felt a sudden restlessness come over him.

“We spoke at length about the topic of justice: what it means to be on the side of justice, and whether justice is something that anyone could enact. The fruits of our discussion could best be explained by a moral question I posed him: the same question I would pose to you all.”

Sumire glanced towards Akira sitting next to her, studying the tense expression on his face. She’d read her boyfriend’s recollection of the conversation Akechi was referring to; his face confirmed any doubts she could have had otherwise.

Akechi cleared his throat and locked his hands together.

“Consider the following circumstance: you know of a criminal who has committed a terrible crime. They are guilty, but they cannot be tried by the law due to a lack of evidence. Left alone, they would surely continue to commit crimes and bring harm to innocents. But would it be just to enact punishment on this individual?”

“Of course.” Rise said with an immediate response, to the surprise of Akechi, the two hosts and even Akira himself. Whispers and murmurs raced through the live audience.

“Said with such resolve!” said Uchiyama with excited astonishment. “Tell us, Rise-chan. What is the basis for your answer?”

“It should be obvious. If someone is in trouble, you should help them. That’s the responsibility we all share as human beings. Turning a blind eye to something terrible is far worse than any intervention could be, in my opinion.” Rise said with confidence. The answer was simple enough, but the maturity with which she gave her response betrayed her persona of a naïve young idol.

“How fascinating. I’m glad I’ve had the pleasure to accompany you on tonight’s show, Ms. Kujikawa.” Akechi chuckled with a smirk. “Indeed, my friend gave the same answer: that saving innocents from harm is the right thing to do. But the fact is, the notion of justice cannot exist without law.”

Akechi shuffled in his seat and adjusted a lock of hair.

“Japan has had a number of individuals commemorated in its history who offer an interesting perspective. Consider famous folk heroes like Nezumi Kozō or Ishikawa Goemon: these individuals are often regarded as ‘outlaw heroes’ or ‘gentlemen thieves’, as they stole valuables from the rich to give to the poor. Many would consider their actions noble, and it could be argued that their intervention saved the lives of the peasants who benefitted from their actions, but the fact remains that they were thieves. They broke the law, and as such, they were punished.”

Akira stared at the young detective intensely. He couldn’t imagine Akechi’s chosen topic was a coincidence.

“So, while I admire the belief of those like my friend and Ms. Kujikawa to ‘do the right thing’, I cannot consider such actions to follow the course of true justice. That justice is what drives me, after all.”

“Do you mind if I ask you a question in return, Akechi-kun?” Rise chimed in.

The whispers intensified. Akechi turned an eye to the co-hosts, who nodded urgently. Akechi nodded to Rise with a smile.

“You say that justice cannot exist without law, but I think that’s too literal a perspective. Of course, the law is an important part of our society, but all human beings have a shared knowledge of things that we deem right and wrong. Murder is a crime, but people don't need the law to tell them that to understand that murderers should be brought to justice. And that’s before considering that no police force in the world is omnipotent.”

Rise paused as a silence set in around the studio. She brought a bashful hand to her head and giggled.

“Wow, this isn’t what I was expecting from this interview at all!”

Akechi and the talk show presenters mimicked her laughter before the young detective continued.

“Thank you for sharing your opinion with me Ms. Kujikawa. I remember hearing your name in the rumours of the ‘Yasoinaba Town Detectives”, perhaps we're bearing witness to the very first 'Detective Princess'!”

All four individuals on the stage laughed along with the live audience, before the chatty male host interjected.

“What a riveting night it’s been, but I’m afraid that’s all we have time for. Another thanks to our special guests, Rise Kujikawa and Goro Akechi.”

The audience erupted with ovation once more as the cameraman panned the heavy camcorder away. A glossy ident covered the TV screens displaying the live feed and faded out.

“And that’s a wrap!” the floor manager called out.

Rise, Akechi and the two presenters stood up from their positions on the stage, making small talk as they left to the dressing rooms.

Akira blinked and cleared the strands of hair that hung in front of his glasses as he watched Akechi step down from the stage. For a moment, he could’ve sworn he’d seen the young detective nod in his direction.

* * *

Akira and Sumire walked back down the corridor of the TV studio. Sumire turned a corner towards the exit, but Akira paused.

“I just remembered, there’s something I need to return to Akechi. The hospital is only five minutes away right? I can meet you outside.”

Sumire was reluctant to part from Akira, recognising the possibility that he had some other motivation, but she couldn't muster any excuse that would conceal her knowledge of what was written in his diary. She nodded silently, releasing Akira’s hand, and turning down the corridor.

Akira slipped back around the corner, leaning against the wall.

“Hey Morgana.”

The black cat poked out of his bag, staring at him with bright eyes.

“Anyone with a distorted cognition can have a Palace, right?”

“That’s right.” Morgana nodded. “Typically, distorted desires are the most likely to result in a Palace, like in Kamoshida’s case, but anyone whose cognition is distorted enough can create a Palace. They don’t necessarily have to be evil.”

“And does that include cognitions of ideas rather than physical places?”

Morgana’s eyes narrowed, recognising the end of Akira’s line of questioning.

“You think Goro Akechi has a Palace?”

Akira nodded his head.

“It’s possible, but a Palace must be formed around a specific location; like how Kamoshida’s Palace existed at Shujin Academy. You would still need to guess the location and the nature of his distortion, but if you enter his name in the Metaverse Navigator, you should be able to tell if he has one or not.”

“Alright. Let’s give it a shot.”

Akira withdrew his phone and tapped on the sinister icon for the Meta-Nav. He opened his mouth to confirm his theory, before he was interrupted by a pair of individuals.

“So that was you I saw in the audience.”

Akira turned to see Goro Akechi himself, walking down the corridor alongside Rise Kujikawa. He turned face them, tilting his phone screen upwards to disguise the app.

“Akechi, and Rise-chan too. It’s a pleasure, I’m a fan of your music.”

“Thank you so much!” Rise smiled sweetly. “So, you’re the enigmatic friend Akechi-kun holds in such high regard?”

“He’s been a most enthralling conversation partner; the only one other than yourself who’s offered such a spirited counterargument to my own perspective.” Akechi nodded with a sly smirk. “I thought I saw Yoshizawa-san with you as well, lest I’m mistaken.”

“No, you’re right. Sumire and I came to watch together, but she just left. We’re off to visit Kasumi.”

“Kasumi and Sumire Yoshizawa…” Rise repeated. She tapped a fingertip on her chin before gasping quietly with a look recognition. “Do you mean the young gymnasts?”

“I’m surprised you’ve heard of them, Rise-chan.” Akira responded with surprise.

“I used to watch a lot of national gymnastics programs: when I started off as an idol, my agent told me that studying gymnasts would help make my own dancing on stage more graceful.” Rise said with a cheerful smile. “The Yoshizawa sisters are quite renowned on a national level.”

“Yes.” Akira affirmed with a bittersweet smile. “I hope Kasumi can return to the stage soon.”

“It’s a small world we live in, is it not?" Akechi beamed. "Perhaps we should all meet for lunch some time?”

“Oooh! That’s not a bad idea Akechi-kun! I’m in a hurry, but feel free to give Akira-kun my contact info."

Rise brought a teasing finger to her lips.

“But only if you promise not to leak it online.”

“Of course.” Akira smiled.

“Alright, I’m placing my trust in you. And here, since you’ve already agreed not to leak things online…”

Rise reached into her handbag and pulled out three plastic CD cases. With a swift motion of a black marker, she signed each CD and handed them to Akira.

“One for you, and one for each of the Yoshizawa sisters. I’d love to meet them myself, but in the meantime, tell them that I’ll be rooting for them.”

Rise offered a beautiful, sincere smile. He nodded with thanks.

“I’d best be off, Sumire will be waiting for me at the hospital. I’ll talk to you later Akechi.”

“I’m sure we will.” He responded with a smirk.

Akira turned away from the pair, walking down the corridor out of the studio.

* * *

As the Trickster walked through the streets of Shibuya, his eyes scanned his surroundings. He couldn’t put a finger on the reason, but he felt uneasy. The streets were quiet, and the wind was still. He shook his head dismissively, continuing his stride: the hospital was just around the corner at the end of the block.

Akira stepped around the corner, his eyes turning wide at the unfamiliar sight. Shibuya General Hospital was gone: in its place was a large building with bright flashing lights and a neon sign. Oversized mimicries of the classic comedy and tragedy masks associated with Greek drama sat atop the grand entrance.

A chill raced down his spine.

“The Crimson Theatre?” Morgana mumbled, poking his head out of Akira’s bag. He leapt onto the pavement below. “This has to be a Palace.”

Akira was confused, but the situation wasn’t unlike how he and Ryuji had encountered Kamoshida’s Castle. He looked at Morgana with an anxious stare.

“Let’s go inside.” Akira stated.

“Are you sure?” Morgana said with concern. “It would be safer to wait for now and investigate with Ann and Ryuji. We have no idea what we’ll find inside.”

“That’s all the more reason to check it out now.” Akira insisted with a tense expression. “I have to know.”

Morgana was reluctant, but eventually agreed. The two stepped into the building, following a lush red carpet.

The theatre’s interior was just as grand as its exterior. The foyer was furnished in a vintage, Victorian style: much more tasteful than that of Kamoshida’s castle. A grand chandelier hung from the ceiling, between a set of curved staircases leading up to the first floor and gallery.

“Ah, young master. We’ve been expecting you.”

Akira turned towards a ticket stand to the side of the main entrance. A figure stood on the opposite side; the large mask over the entirety of its face confirmed that it was a Shadow, without a doubt. Akira instinctively reached for his dagger, but he stood in surprise as he felt nothing by his side. Akira was still in his school uniform, and Morgana still appeared as an ordinary black cat.

“The Palace ruler must not see us a threat. That’s why you’ve not transformed into your rebel’s attire, and why I still look like a cat.” Morgana speculated.

Akira approached the Shadow warily.

“It will please the young madam greatly to see you in the audience. Here are your tickets, enjoy the show.”

The Shadow nodded cordially and handed Akira a pair of tickets. He read it aloud with a hesitant voice.

“The Spirit of Independence, performed… by Sumire Yoshizawa.”

The lights in the foyer dimmed, as the Shadow behind the counter spoke up.

“I do not wish to hurry you, sir, but the show will begin shortly. Please make your way to your allocated seat.”

Akira trembled silently, before marching up the stairs. He pushed through the double doors into a vast auditorium: if he had to guess, Akira wagered that the hall could seat upwards of several thousand people. Every seat wrapped around the central stage, which was brightly lit with spotlights.

Akira stepped forward to a single seat on a balcony with a near-perfect view of the stage: a small tag sat on top of the cushion. It read, ‘reserved for Master Kurusu.’

In an instant, an unfathomable number of people stood from their seats. Each figure was a Shadow: they were all dressed in formal attire but wore sinister masquerade masks over their faces. The room shook against the audience’s uproar and deafening applause.

Akira watched speechlessly as a lithe young girl stepped onto the stage. She wore a slim-fitting gymnastics uniform coloured violet with a floral pattern stitched around the waist. A baton sat in her hand, trailing a bright ribbon from the end.

The girl walked to the middle of the stage and turned to face the immense audience. She raised her hands straight up into the air, and leaned forward with a bow.

There was no mistaking it: the girl on stage was Sumire Yoshizawa.

The applause faded and the room fell silent as Sumire began to move in time with a soft piano melody. Her motions were shy: the girl drifted with half-steps and she waved the ribbon gently. She hovered around the centre of the stage like a lost child overwhelmed by an unfamiliar experience.

LCD screens above the stage flickered to life: stark white phrases pierced the darkness. They pulsed and faded with an ethereal glow.

_My sister can achieve anything._

_My sister is beloved by all._

_My sister can make her dream come true._

Akira clenched his fist bitterly, thinking back on the things Sumire had said when they first met after the accident in Shibuya. He could still picture the teary girl that came to apologise to him in his hospital room. 'I tried to run away from my fears', she had said. 'Nobody would miss Sumire Yoshizawa.'

It had only been a month since Sumire had said such things, but thinking back on the time they’d shared yesterday, Akira knew that they were two different people.

Gradually, the tempo quickened. Sumire’s timid steps became strides, then leaps, and the music hastened to match her intensity. Her performance reached a climax as she darted across the stage with a passionate fervour. Every action and extension exuded an unwavering confidence, and she pranced around the full length of the stage with deliberate, but graceful motions.

Sumire arched her back and shot her arms in the air, striking a captivating pose to end her performance.

The auditorium erupted in applause: bouquets of violet flowers were tossed onto the stage at Sumire’s feet and raucous cheers shook the ground beneath Akira.

“I don’t understand.” Akira muttered.

“I think this is proof.” Morgana said despondently, reluctant to finish his sentence. “I can’t think of anyone else who would have this sort of cognition. The Palace ruler has to be Yoshizawa-san.”

Akira flinched with anger. He refused to believe that Sumire could have a Palace, but he had no rational logic with which to deny Morgana’s deduction.

“We should leave for now; this place is full to the brim with Shadows, it’s too dangerous with just the two of us.” Morgana advised; his voice barely audible above the persistent applause as Sumire bowed in the centre of the stage with flowers in hand.

Akira breathed a reluctant sigh and turned back to the door towards the foyer before he froze in his tracks. His blood turned cold as he heard a scream.

“Stop it! Let go of me!”

Akira’s eyes darted to the source of the voice: in an aisle between the seats, he spotted three Shadows dressed in security uniforms. One of them led the group down the walkway, while the other two dragged a figure forcefully by their arms.

Akira leapt over the balcony guard. He landed with a heavy impact on the walkway below, staggering to his knees with a sharp pain in his leg as he fumbled his landing.

“Joker!” Morgana cried out, attempting to pursue him.

Akira ignored Morgana’s cries, dashing towards the group as fast as he could. The guards kicked open the door to an emergency exit at the side of the auditorium, dragging their hostage violently: a young girl in a Shujin uniform with long, red hair.

“Sumire!” Akira cried out.

The teary-eyed girl snapped her head back, screaming with fear.

“S-Senpai!?”

Akira barrelled through the doorway and into the corridor, staring down the guards who had seized Sumire. The head guard turned to Akira, staring him down as he smacked a heavy truncheon into the palm of his hand.

“This brat doesn’t have a ticket: she’s intruding upon the madam’s performance. Such an insolent crime must be punished.”

“Shut up.” Akira said with venom. His rebel’s attire apparated on his form with a burst of blue flame as he swiped the dagger from his waist.

The head turned to one of his lackeys who still had Sumire’s arm seized tightly. He spoke in a sinister, low-pitched tone.

“Knock her out, we can’t have her escape while we deal with this intruder.”

Before Akira could intervene, one of the guards holding Sumire grabbed their weapon and clubbed Sumire in the back of the head. She passed out in an instant.

“No! You bastards!”

The guards writhed and contorted as their physical forms melted into a sickly black puddle before reforming: the two lackeys appeared as blue-skinned figures with silk ribbons wrapped around their arms, while the head guard apparated as a figure with abstract, multicoloured skin draped in a red cape.

“Arsène!” Akira roared, tearing the mask from his face. “Ravage them, leave nothing left!”

Arsène reeled back and flapped his black wings, covering the group of foes with a blast of curse energy. The lackeys reeled from the blow as they were knocked to the floor, but the abstract demon showed little sign of damage.

Akira seized his pistol and unloaded the entire magazine in the demon’s head, screaming a violent cry as he pulled back on the trigger over and over. The monster shielded itself with the red cape, as Joker’s bullets ripped through the fabric and stained it with a thick, black ichor.

“Joker, be careful!”

Akira leapt to the side as a fierce bolt of lightning crashed down beside him, inches away from striking him.

Morgana dashed into the battle with his scimitar drawn, a frustrated frown adorned his face.

“You’re way too reckless! We’re surrounded by Shadows here!”

“Help me deal with this one!” Akira ordered, summoning Arsène to deliver a vicious physical strike. The abstract demon attempted to dodge backwards, but Arsène predicted its movement with a sinister grin, landing a critical blow.

Akira rushed forward with his gun trained on the demon as it lay sprawled out on the ground, recoiling from the blow. It scowled at him with scorn.

“This is Ms. Yoshizawa’s will. You cannot defy her.”

“I told you to shut up.” Akira spat, glaring down the barrel of the pistol. “Give me whatever you have on you and get the hell out of here.”

“Hmph, if that is what it takes for you to spare my life, so be it. You will not escape this place alive regardless.”

The demon tossed a restorative item towards Joker before skulking away into the shadows. Akira immediately sheathed his weapon and rushed to Sumire’s aid.

“We can’t go back the way we came; I can hear more Shadows on the way…” Morgana grieved.

“Then we go forward.” Akira replied, lifting Sumire into his arms. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

* * *

The pair of thieves hurried through the staff corridors of the theatre, hiding around corners to avoid the patrolling guards. Akira led the charge down a set of metal stairs, leading to a dimly lit basement floor.

“It’s locked.” He said, turning to face Morgana.

Morgana nodded. He leapt up onto a handrail near the stairs and fiddled with a lockpick. After a moment, he heard a satisfying ‘click’ and the door swung open.

Immediately, Akira was hit with a blast of cold air. The temperature on the other side of the door was far colder than the main theatre floor, and the room was obscured in pitch darkness.

“What is this place? It’s not like anything else we’ve seen so far.” Morgana ambled.

Akira carefully put down Sumire’s body by the door. He reached into his pouch for a box of matches. With a swift strike, a small flame flickered to life on the end of the match.

Everything that he could see illuminated by the light was utterly destroyed. Furniture lay shattered and broken; posters pinned to the walls had been shredded and the floor was littered with ruined fabrics and torn apparel.

Akira held the match to a wall where a tattered newspaper clipping had been hung up. Sections of an article reporting on a rising talent in the world of gymnastics were blotted out with black marker.

An echoed voice pierced the silence of the room.

_My sister deserves recognition._

_My sister deserves acclaim._

_My sister deserves respect._

Akira’s eyes darted around the room looking for the source of the voice, but he couldn’t see past the thick layer of darkness.

“Stop this…”

He turned to the door in panic. Sumire was curled up with her head in her knees, clutching her ears and sobbing tearfully.

“Sumire!”

Akira rushed to the girl’s aid, crouching by her side, and holding her in a tight embrace.

“Senpai, why?” she sobbed. “Why can I hear her voice…?”

The dawning realisation washed over Akira. He shuddered as the voices in the room grew louder and louder.

_I cannot perform._

_I cannot achieve anything._

_I cannot live._

This was not Sumire’s Palace, it was the Palace of Kasumi Yoshizawa.

A bright light flooded the room, blinding Akira as he shielded his eyes with his arm.

As his vision adjusted, the horrors of the room became more and more clear. The walls were marred with slashes and cuts, and everything in the room had been ruined. From gymnastics uniforms and awards to family photos; nothing had been spared from the rampage that had wrecked the room.

“Joker, it’s her!” Morgana warned.

Akira darted to his feet standing in front of Sumire defiantly, dagger in hand. At the end of the chamber was a young girl. She wore a spotless white gown that covered down to her knees, past which her bare legs were blackened with a deathly pallor. Rope was tied to the girl’s neck in a tight noose with the severed end hanging over her shoulder, and her auburn hair was tied back in a ponytail.

Kasumi Yoshizawa stood staring at the intruders with iridescent gold eyes.

“I cannot do anything anymore.” Kasumi’s Shadow continued in a tired, monotone voice. “I cannot achieve our dream. I cannot support Sumire. I am useless, and that is why I must die.”

“This is what she really thinks…?” Morgana grimaced.

“How could you say that!” Sumire sobbed, trembling violently as she pulled herself to her feet. “I’m not as talented or as determined as you Kasumi, I’ve always been the one trying to keep up with you…”

“Maybe that was true before.” Kasumi’s Shadow replied. “But that was the past. All I am now is a burden; to you, to our parents, to everyone. You don’t need me: not when you have people who care for you like Kurusu and Suzui-senpai.”

“Please Kasumi!” Sumire pleaded desperately. “Listen to what you’re saying! We always said we’d achieve our dream together… Nothing has changed!”

“You’re wrong.” Kasumi responded bluntly, staring at her sister with hollow eyes. “You should be the one on the stage, in the spotlight. I won’t let myself hold you back.”

Kasumi’s head snapped to the side as Shadows apparated around the room, surrounding the three. Akira felt a looming presence behind him; he turned to see a tall Shadow standing over him before it thwacked him in the back of the head with a heavy truncheon.

Akira collapsed onto the ground with a groan. His vision blurred as he clutched the aching wound on his head.

“Joker! Nngh!” Morgana cried out as a guard seized him with a tight grip.

“I can’t let you oppose me. You won’t stop me. I must die, so that Sumire can succeed.” Kasumi droned on.

Sumire stared at the ground breathlessly, tears slipping from her cheeks and splashing onto the floor by her feet.

“Kasumi… This is all my fault… I’m so sorry…”

“…Sumire!” Akira cried out with a rasping shout. “You have to fight back! Prove to her… that she’s wrong!”

The words echoed in Sumire’s mind. Memories of training sessions with her sister and Coach Hiraguchi swarmed her head.

The young girl sprawled out on the gymnastics mat sobbed with teary eyes. Her voice hitched as she wiped her damp eyes.

“I can’t do it Kasumi. I’m not as good as you.”

She stared up at her older sister, who extended a hand with a gentle smile.

“I’m here with you Sumire, together we can face any challenge. We’ll be the best!”

Sumire’s memory faded as she faced her sister’s Shadow once more. Kasumi stared her down with a blank expression and unnerving gold eyes.

“I’m just holding you back Sumire. You should be the one on the world stage. Alone.”

Sumire screamed defiantly, her eyes burning with a fiery resolve.

“You’re wrong, Kasumi! I won’t let you give in to despair, and I will _not_ tolerate you speaking ill of our dream! You must stay true to yourself!”

**_Such tenacity…_ **

Sumire’s head pulsed with pain. She cried out, clutching her head with strained fingertips. Her knees buckled as she fell to the floor.

**_The poor girl’s life is in cinders…  
You share her grief like it were your own,  
it weighs on your heart._ **

**_Yet despite this, you deny her fallacy, refuse her delusions._ **

Sumire shrieked as her body convulsed on the tattered floor, clawing at her face and throat with strained eyes.

**_I am thou… Thou art I..._ **

**_Wield your faith in defense of your dream,  
and remind the other girl within you,  
of the faith she once had in herself._ **

A black mask covered Sumire’s face. She tugged at it weakly with both hands, whimpering as it gradually loosened. With a breathless, desperate gasp, she ripped the mask from her face: a splash of blood stained her visage in its place, and blue flames danced around her body.

Akira stared up at the sight from the floor, still reeling from the impact to his head. The force of Sumire’s awakening staggered the nearby Shadows. Morgana seized the opening to free himself from the Shadow’s grasp, summoning Zorro to heal Akira’s wound.

The Trickster staggered to his feet once more as the flames around Sumire faded into sparse embers. She stood in a striking black leotard, thigh highs, stiletto shoes and a bolero jacket with long tailcoats. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail by a black ribbon, and a silver chain with a floral pattern held a scabbard at her side.

Floating above her was a beautiful Persona in a crystalline dress and a downy white cape. A bright blue ribbon was tied around her head, and her pitch-black skin radiated a soft blue light.

“Cendrillon… Guide my hand!”

Sumire spun her arms around and leaned back, firing a lever-action rifle at a nearby Shadow. A second Shadow charged towards her, but she dodged swiftly with a spin. Sumire performed a cartwheel and leapt into the air with a graceful backflip, unloading another round into the Shadow before she landed back to the ground. Her bullets ripped through the Shadows, burning them with a bright holy energy.

“Woah, she’s amazing…!” Morgana stared in awe.

Akira wasted no time rushing to Sumire’s aid. As the Shadows closed in around her, Sumire unsheathed her rapier from the scabbard at her side. She approached a nearby Shadow to deliver a rapid strike, but Akira beat her to it, cutting down the Shadow from behind with his dagger.

“S-Senpai!” Sumire gasped in relief.

“We’ll clear a path to the exit behind us and get out of here.” He ordered, turning his head and assessing the situation. “Follow my lead.”

“Right!” Sumire nodded.

Kasumi’s Shadow watched silently as the pair cut down another group of Shadows with synchronised attacks. Zorro appeared between them and staggered a Shadow guarding the door with a strong gust of wind.

“Let’s go!” Morgana yelled, dashing towards the door.

The thieves raced up the stairs and through the winding corridors of the theatre. Akira burst through a heavy door with a powerful kick as they emerged in the auditorium once more.

An unfathomable number of sinister eyes glared at them from the audience with ill intent. Akira turned to the stage, where the cognitive Sumire had stopped her performance: she approached the thieves with a twisted grin. The delicate ribbon at the end of her baton had been replaced with a sharp wire.

“Mona!” Akira yelled, brandishing the grappling hook in his hand and gesturing to the balcony high above them at the back of the auditorium. Morgana nodded and leapt onto Akira’s shoulder. He seized Sumire’s waist with a tight grip, lifting her off of her feet and carrying her weight.

“A-ah! Senpai!?”

“Hold on tight!”

The grapple darted towards the ceiling, coiling around a chandelier on the far side of the room. Akira gave a quick pull to ensure that the grapple would hold firm before he released the braking mechanism. Sumire buried her head in Akira’s chest with fear as they zipped through the air, passing over thousands of threatening Shadows.

As they reached the apex of their ascent, Akira freed the grappling hook and braced himself for a heavy landing, crashing into the balcony from which he’d first spotted Sumire with a heavy thud.

Morgana dashed on ahead as Akira gently put Sumire down. The creature burst through the doors into the foyer with Akira and Sumire in pursuit.

“Hurry!”

The thieves barrelled down the staircase and barged through the front entrance to the theatre. Embraced by the chilly air of the Shibuya evening, Akira frantically grasped for his phone and stabbed the Meta-Nav icon with his fingertip.

Their vision distorted as the twisted theatre disappeared: they escaped from the Metaverse, returning to reality once more.

* * *

“Well, kid?” Sojiro sighed with a confused, disapproving look as Akira pushed through the entrance to Leblanc with an exhausted Sumire sprawled over his shoulders. “Back this late, and with her draped over your shoulder? Dare I ask?”

“We went to watch a film nearby but Sumire fell asleep.” Akira stammered, sticking with the first excuse that came to his head. “I’ll take her home once she’s woken up.”

“Alright…” Sojiro relented. “Just make sure you give her parents a call. They must be worried sick if they’ve not heard from her at all.”

Akira nodded and hurried up to his room, he put Sumire down on his bed, removed her glasses and wrapped her in the duvet. She rested silently as he collapsed onto the sofa, his own exhaustion catching up with him.

“How did Sumire end up in a Palace like that?”

“It’s possible she has the Meta-Nav on her phone…” Morgana pondered. “But it’s more likely that she entered the Metaverse at the same time we did. Check the Palace’s keywords on your phone.”

Akira’s eyes widened as he reached for his phone: he’d ended up in the Palace by coincidence, just like in Kamoshida’s case, but it hadn’t occurred to him to check the keywords. He opened the Meta-Nav and opened the search history.

“Kasumi Yoshizawa’s Theatre of Grief.” He read aloud with a tense scowl. “Palace ruler: Kasumi Yoshizawa. Place of distortion: Shibuya General Hospital. Nature of distortion: a theatre stage.”

“You’ve visited Yoshizawa-san in the hospital before, right?” Morgana questioned.

“Yeah.” Akira nodded. “She always seemed so upbeat, I never would have expected her to believe the things her Shadow was saying in the Palace.”

“Perhaps she feels the need to uphold the pretence of being happy… That would explain why she views the hospital as a place of performance.” Morgana frowned.

Akira stared at his phone, combing his memory. He must have stumbled across the Palace keywords through chance during his conversation with Rise and Akechi. Sumire must have been nearby, just like how Ann was dragged into the Metaverse when he and Ryuji infiltrated Kamoshida’s Castle.

“No more opening the Meta-Nav without the intention of going into a Palace.” Akira ordered. “It’s far too dangerous.”

“Agreed.” Morgana affirmed.

The pair turned to Akira’s bed as they heard a quiet groan. Sumire rolled wearily under the sheets, rubbing her eyes with a wide yawn.

“S-Senpai?” Sumire looked at him with sleepy eyes. “That wasn’t a dream, was it… I can’t believe everything you wrote about was true…” she mumbled.

Akira stared at her with a curious look. Panic washed over Sumire’s face as she covered her mouth, realising what she’d said in her drowsy stupor. She pouted with guilt.

“P-promise you won’t be angry?”

Akira nodded. Sumire breathed a heavy sigh and bowed apologetically.

“Yesterday when you lent me your coat… I noticed your diary in the pocket.”

Akira stared at her astounded but showed no signs of anger. Sumire’s odd behaviour throughout the day suddenly made sense.

“Is that why you were spying on my conversation with Akechi?”

She nodded with a pout, avoiding his eyeline with a remorseful gaze towards the floor.

“I-I didn’t intend to at first, but you started talking to Morgana-chan about Palaces… I ran on ahead when you started exchanging contact info with Ms. Kujikawa, and then I saw that theatre in place of the hospital…”

Her voice trailed off timidly.

“I’m so sorry, Senpai…”

Akira chuckled at the irony that his own girlfriend had discovered his secret identity as a Phantom Thief before the spectacular Detective Prince. He sat beside her on the bed and ran his hand through her hair with a reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry, I’m not angry with you. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“And on the bright side, we don’t need to explain everything about the Metaverse and Palaces if she’s read your diary.” Morgana chirped, hopping up onto Akira’s lap.

Sumire tilted her head with a stunned gape, eyeing Morgana suspiciously.

“So, when you said that you were having a conversation with Morgana when I first met him… You were serious?!”

“Surprised?” Morgana smirked. “Only people who have heard me speak in the Metaverse can understand me in reality.”

“I wouldn’t believe any of this if I weren’t seeing it all with my own eyes…” Sumire mumbled. “It’s a lot to take in.”

“There’s no rush. For now, we should figure out what we’re going to do about Kasumi.”

“Right. If we infiltrate that theatre again and steal her Treasure, we should be able to change her heart.”

“What would happen to Kasumi?” Sumire asked with concern. “You wrote the same thing about Mr. Kamoshida, but didn’t that strange card we saw at Shujin say that Mr. Kamoshida was going to confess to crimes?”

“It’s true: changing Kasumi’s heart will be much different than what we experienced with Kamoshida.” Morgana instructed. “Kamoshida’s cognition was distorted by his lust and his arrogance: the crimes he committed in real life reinforced that distortion, which is why his Palace appeared the way it did. But Kasumi’s heart has been distorted by grief instead.”

“So, if we change her heart,” Akira continued, “we should be able to dispel the overwhelming grief that’s causing her to believe the things we heard her Shadow say in the Palace?”

“I think so.” Morgana nodded. “But we still don’t know how Kamoshida has been affected by our stealing his Treasure. It might be better to hold off on changing Kasumi’s heart until we’re sure that it’ll work.”

Akira stiffened with frustration. He was reluctant to ignore what he’d seen in Kasumi’s Palace, but he knew Morgana was right: he remembered the discussions with Ann and Ryuji on the rooftop about the possibility of Kamoshida dying as a result of their infiltrating his Palace. Akira would never forgive himself if he were responsible for Kasumi’s death.

Sumire wrung her fingers together nervously.

“You’re saying that if we go back to that theatre, we can help Kasumi?”

“It’ll be dangerous…” Morgana warned. “But now that you’ve awakened to a Persona, you should be able to defend yourself. You’ve got everything you need to become a fully-fledged Phantom Thief.”

Sumire still wore a tense expression.

“I used to think that people were responsible for their own self-improvement… That’s why I always felt so guilty for relying on Kasumi so much.”

She lifted her head, looking at Akira with resolve.

“But now I understand that everyone needs support every now and then. Me… Kasumi… Even you, Senpai. If I can help Kasumi overcome her grief, I won’t abandon her.”

“Alright.” Akira nodded with a gentle smirk. “We’ll save her. Together.”

“We should fill Ryuji and Ann in on everything we know about Kasumi’s Palace tomorrow.” Morgana proposed. “Stealing the Treasure before we see what happens to Kamoshida is out of the question, but we should visit Kasumi at the hospital. Her state of mind in reality will affect what we encounter in the Palace, after all.”

“Alright, so the five of us will visit Kasumi after school.” Akira stated, confirming the plan with his confidants.

* * *

When Akira and Sumire returned downstairs, the pair were surprised to see two large plates of curry laid out on the counter. Sojiro turned his head, standing over a large pot in the kitchen.

“You two haven’t eaten yet, right? Dig in. It’d be rude to send you home on an empty stomach.”

Akira gave Sojiro an appreciative grin as he shuffled onto the stool by the counter. He noticed that Sumire’s helping was almost twice the size of his own; Sojiro had clearing been paying attention in their morning conversations as Akira recalled an offhand comment he’d made about Sumire’s insatiable appetite.

As he finished the last mouthful of curry, his phone buzzed. An unexpected text from Sumire’s father, Shinichi.

_I’m trusting you, Kurusu._

Akira felt a heavy weight on his shoulders as he read the text, attempting to understand the context of Shinichi’s direct statement.

Sumire noisily scooped up the last of the curry sauce with her spoon. She bowed respectfully in her seat.

“Thank you ever so much, Sakura-san. Your curry is delicious.”

“Glad to hear you like it.” He smirked. “You’d best hurry home soon though, I’m sure your parents are anxiously waiting for you.”

“O-oh, well, um…”

Sumire fiddled with her fingertips anxiously, avoiding Sojiro’s scrutinising gaze. Akira himself gave the girl a curious look, sipping from a glass of water to wash down the spicy aftertaste of curry.

“If it’s not too much trouble… I was hoping I could stay the night with Senpai.”

Akira coughed and spluttered, spilling water over the empty plate in front of him. The question caught him completely off-guard: he cleared his throat and turned to Sumire with a stunned expression.

“Hoo boy…” Sojiro sighed, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. “That’s not up to me I’m afraid.”

“A-actually, I’ve already asked my parents if it’s okay and they gave me their permission."

“That so?” Sojiro mused. “Well, so long as they’re fine with it, I have no objections.”

He turned to Akira with a deathly serious stare.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” He said gruffly. “ _I mean it_. You’re still just a kid: I won’t be here to clean up your mess if you throw your life away in one night.”

Sojiro’s inference was more than obvious to Akira as the teen looked away with a furious blush, obscuring his face with a hand adjusting his glasses.

“O-of course.” He stammered.

“Alright.” Sojiro said with a smirk. “Have fun you two, but don’t stay up too late. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

The middle-aged man slipped into the night, turning the sign to ‘closed’ on his way out. Akira remained paralysed in his seat, the reason for Shinichi’s text dawning on him. He clearly shared Sojiro’s assumptions.

He turned at the upbeat young girl rocking her legs at the counter, who faced him with a sweet, innocent smile.

_She’s a yokai…_

Once they returned to his room, Akira dragged the sofa next to the bed in the corner of the room to create a makeshift double bed. He pulled out an extra pair of sheets from a cardboard box on a shelf and draped them over the sofa. Sumire climbed into Akira’s bed as he himself tucked under the sheets on the sofa.

“Um... Senpai?”

Akira removed his glasses and leaned over Sumire to place them on the windowsill beside the girl’s glasses. He looked at her inquisitively.

“After what I saw… with Kasumi… I didn’t want to be alone. So… thanks.”

The Trickster smiled. He gave Sumire’s hand a gentle squeeze as he rested his head on the pillow. Morgana curled into a ball at the end of the bed.

Within minutes, all three Phantom Thieves were fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a really fun chapter to write! I hadn't initially intended to incorporate characters from beyond Persona 5 with this story, but the dynamics between Rise/Akechi and Rise/Sumire were really interesting to me. And of course, it's very exciting to finally reveal more of this new story arc. Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. :)
> 
> Notes:  
> \- In case it weren't obvious, the title of Rise's song is a nod to Yu Narukami, the protagonist from Persona 4.
> 
> \- There's naturally still more I have yet to reveal with Kasumi's Palace, but if you want to get a sense of what sections like the auditorium look like, look up pictures of concert halls around London like the Royal Albert Hall or the Southbank Centre.
> 
> \- The 'yokai' line near the end is a nod to the show Erased. Highly recommended!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kamoshida's change of heart strikes. Kasumi receives new visitors at the hospital. The Phantom Thieves discuss their new target.

“For real?!”

Ryuji leapt to his feet as the flimsy folding chair he was leaning back on clattered to the floor of the Shujin rooftop. He gawked with his jaw on the floor, a stupefied expression painted across his face.

“Y-you actually got to meet Risette and talk to her backstage?”

“Ryuji!” Ann scowled, elbowing the boy in his hip with a sharp jab. He yelped from the strike, massaging his side. “That is _not_ what’s important here!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but come on! Risette’s like, mega famous, and she’s a model, right? I bet you’re just as curious as I am!”

“Carry on Akira.” Ann urged, purposefully avoiding Ryuji’s goading comments.

The trio of second years had gathered during the lunch break at Akira’s request. He stood leaning against the wall next to the double doors, while Morgana sat nearby on top of a spare desk, eagerly leaning into Ann’s idle scratches over his ears and under his chin.

“As I was saying… After I split off from Rise-chan and Akechi, I went to go and meet Sumire at the hospital, but instead, there was a Palace.”

“The hell? You mean just like when we first found Kamoshida’s castle? You stumbled across it without meaning to?” Ryuji probed.

“Exactly. It was a theatre.” Akira said, his body turning stiff and tense. “And the Palace ruler is Kasumi Yoshizawa: Sumire’s older sister…”

“No way… Yoshizawa-san’s sister?!” Ryuji gasped with equal surprise.

“That’s why you were limping a bit when you came into class today, isn’t it…” Ann mused, glaring at Akira with bright, scrutinising eyes. He’d done his best to disguise the lingering pain in his leg from the conflict in Kasumi’s Palace, but Ann was clearly more insightful than he’d first given her credit for. He nodded with a sombre nod.

“Sumire wound up in the Palace as well; Morgana and I had to fight her sister’s Shadow to rescue her.”

“Sumire… Did she…?” Ann pondered, pre-empting the events of Sumire’s confrontation with her sister’s Shadow.

“Yeah. She awakened to a Persona. That’s why I wanted to ask you both: will you help us change Kasumi’s heart?”

“Of course man, but… this makes no effin’ sense. Sumire’s sister ain’t nothing like that bastard Kamoshida, right? How does a girl like that have a Palace?”

“Don’t you listen to anything we tell you Ryuji?” Morgana huffed. “Palaces are born from distorted cognitions: that includes things like grief and sorrow. Someone can have a Palace without being evil.”

“But for her cognition to be distorted enough to create a Palace…” Ann mused with a sad expression. “I can’t imagine what it must be like…”

“We should act quickly, but we can’t change her heart before we see what happens with Kamoshida. Infiltrating Palaces is dangerous after all: we have to be sure we won’t cause Kasumi any harm.” Morgana said.

Akira agreed with a nod.

“We’ll visit Kasumi in the hospital after school today. We might be able to learn more about her Palace by seeing what she’s like in reality.”

Akira’s eyes wandered as the door to his side opened wide. Sumire stepped onto the rooftop.

“Sorry I’m late everyone!” She bowed. “My class was held up by the first-year student council representatives: apparently the school is holding an assembly at the end of the day.”

“Ugh… What a drag…” Ryuji groaned, sweeping his foot across the concrete floor.

“You think it has something to do with Kamoshida? He’s been on sick leave ever since we changed his heart…” Ann speculated.

“It’s certainly possible.” purred Morgana. “Be sure to check it out.”

Ryuji stared with curiosity as Sumire reached into her school bag. She pulled out several sealed bowls of instant noodles.

“You uh, have quite the appetite Yoshizawa-san.”

“Oh!" Sumire blushed. "These aren’t all for me. I wanted to get you all a present as thanks for allowing me to join you.”

Ryuji’s eyes lit up with glee as shared a similarly excitable expression.

“That’s a good idea! If we really were successful in changing Kamoshida’s heart, we should have a party to celebrate. It can be a welcome party for Sumire as well!”

The Thieves nodded enthusiastically as Sumire and Akira handed Ann and Ryuji a bowl of noodles. Morgana looked on from a distance with envy before Sumire spotted his bright eyes staring at the group.

“Oh, Morgana-senpai! I got something for you too!”

Sumire opened a bento box and held a fresh slice of salmon next to Morgana with a pair of chopsticks. The cat’s eyes gleamed with joy as Sumire flicked her wrist, flinging the salmon into the air above him. Morgana leapt up to seize the fish in his mouth, mumbling grateful meows.

The other Phantom Thieves tucked into their lunches. Akira and Sumire sat side-by-side, chatting about their day. They shared parts of their meal with each other, savouring the different flavours.

Ryuji and Ann sat opposite, watching as Akira lifted the noodles with his chopsticks and delivered them into Sumire’s waiting mouth. Ann covered her mouth with a hand as she whispered to Ryuji.

Akira’s eyebrow raised as he watched the pair.

“What’s up you two?”

Ryuji grinned with a vulgar smirk.

“We were just saying that we’re surprised to hear the Shujin rumour mill finally got one right.”

Akira’s eyebrow remained aloft as he stared at Ryuji expectantly. Ann spoke on his behalf.

“You and Sumire. People are talking about how you two are dating.”

Sumire’s face flushed a bright red as she gulped heavily, accidentally swallowing the food in her mouth. Akira adjusted his glasses with a shrug.

“I suppose it was only a matter of time until people found out…”

“The hell man…” Ryuji mumbled. “First you get Risette’s number, then you start dating a girl like Sumire?”

Ryuji yelped as Ann swiftly elbowed him in the hip. The boy grumbled and massaged his side.

The group’s laughed aloud until Morgana’s violent shushing silenced them.

“Someone’s coming up the stairs.”

Akira concentrated and listened for the footsteps growing louder on the other side of the door. The heavy rooftop door was gently pushed open as a young girl stepped out from the doorframe.

Makoto Niijima, a third-year student with brown, shoulder-length hair stood with a scrutinising stare. She ran her eyes over the group with a blank expression, disguising whatever it was that was on her mind.

“Oh, Niijima-senpai!” Sumire smiled. “Did you need something?”

“I was just letting people know that there’ll be an assembly at the end of the day. Attendance is compulsory, so please don’t go home until after the principal has released everyone.”

She looked at each of the four students and scanned the rooftop they used as their hideout. Morgana watched the skeptical third-year from behind a nearby hiding spot.

“Also, due to the incident with Suzui-san, the school has decided to close off the rooftop. I’m afraid you’ll have to find somewhere else to eat your lunches from now on.”

Ryuji scowled with an audible ‘tsk’, which Akira could have sworn provoked a slight twitch of anger from Makoto, but Ann and Sumire nodded respectfully. With a nod, the girl left just as quickly as she arrived.

“Damn teacher’s pet… Why’s she gotta butt her nose in.” Ryuji grumbled.

“The timing probably works out for us.” Morgana responded. “We should find a new hideout closer to Kasumi’s Palace.”

“What about Leblanc?” Akira suggested. “It’s only a few minutes from Shibuya by train, and Boss will probably treat us to some food and drink knowing him.”

“Ooooh, I like the sound of that!” Ann agreed with a chipper smile, clapping her hands together. “I’ve been curious about what kind of place you’re staying in.”

“Alright, we’ll make Leblanc the new hideout for now, but don’t forget we’re visiting Kasumi in the hospital after school today. We’ll meet up outside the Shujin front gate.” Morgana stated with authority.

“Right!” the Thieves nodded in unison.

* * *

In the late afternoon, rows upon rows of Shujin students lined the gymnasium, which the school converted into an assembly hall as necessary. The entire school was present, and the mutterings of chat and gossip hung over the hall with a suspenseful atmosphere. Some students speculated the reason why the school had been brought into an emergency assembly, while others simply moaned over the wait.

Akira stood next to Ann, as they had been brought to the hall by class. He could spot Sumire’s vibrant red hair a few rows ahead of them, while Ryuji made his whereabouts known by pushing through groups of students to unite with Ann and Akira.

“Folks in my class are saying this is about Shiho.” He whispered with little discretion. “Sounds like the principal seriously thinks he needs to tell the students not to kill themselves.”

The whispers from a pair of students to Akira’s right supported Ryuji’s theory. Before he could respond, he was cut off by the loud disruption of a fingertip slapping the top of a microphone. Principal Kobayakawa stood behind a lectern on the stage ahead of them: his fat head glistened with sweat beneath the stage lights, and he his bloated chin waggled as he spoke.

“Let’s begin this school-wide assembly. As you all know, a tragic event took place the other day. While we have heard from the hospital that Suzui-san has regained consciousness and is taking time to recover, it is the school’s responsibility to ensure the safety of its student body. “

He tugged at the red bowtie straining against his neck.

“I must implore you all to consider the importance of life: you all have bright futures ahead of you, and-“

Beneath the amplified tone of Principal Kobayakawa’s voice was the squeaking noise of the gymnasium doors. Akira only realised it himself when students all around him turned away from the principal’s address, instead looking at the sullen figure standing by the door.

Suguru Kamoshida stood at the entrance to the gymnasium, his head dipped towards the floor with a deeply ashamed frown across his face.

The principal finally noticed Kamoshida himself before stammering with unease.

“Mr. Kamoshida, w-what’s the-“

Kamoshida said nothing. Instead, he took heavy footsteps towards the front of the stage, trudging up the steps and standing in front of Principal Kobayakawa, facing the entire school. The audience was rife with curious chatter, until Kamoshida began to speak.

“I must confess to everything… I have repeatedly done things that were unacceptable of a teacher. Verbally and physically abusing students, members of the volleyball team, and… sexually harassing female students.”

A unanimous gasp rocked the hall as the gossip grew louder.

“ _Sexual harassment?! That’s disgusting…!”_

_“Abuse?! No way!”_

_“So, the rumours were true…!”_

Kamoshida fell to his knees and sobbed, unfazed by the students condemning remarks as he continued his confession.

“I sentenced students to expulsion simply because I didn’t like them, I treated innocent students with arrogance and contempt, and… I am the reason why Shiho Suzui tried to kill herself. Nothing I can do will wipe clean the stain I have left on this school. That is why must resign and turn myself in.”

He stared at people across the room with wild eyes and desperate pleas.

“Someone, please call the police! I beg you!”

“ _The police? Is he serious?”_

_“This is crazy…”_

Akira stared wide-eyed as the hysteria in front of him continued to unfold. He hadn’t known the full impact of their meddling in the Metaverse, but Kamoshida’s change of heart went well beyond his expectations. The volleyball teacher who was previously arrogant to a fault and brimming with self-esteem had been transformed into a whimpering, repentant mess of a man. All he could do was stare in awe.

He stole a glimpse of Sumire amidst the crowd of students, standing stiffly with a nervous hand gripping her opposite arm. No doubt she feared that Kasumi could have a similar reaction to a change of heart.

Principal Kobayakawa and a handful of teachers tried to escort Kamoshida off the stage, but the damage was already done. The gossiping of Shujin’s student body reached a fever pitch as they made wild speculations.

“ _Isn’t this just like what that weird card said?”_

_“You mean the Phantom Thieves? They were for real?”_

_“No way. How do you even steal someone’s heart?”_

_“That’s a load of bull if you ask me.”_

Principal Kobayakawa floundered behind the microphone.

“T-the assembly is over! Go home: do _not_ loiter around on school grounds.”

The excitable crowd began to disperse. Ryuji stared at his fellow thieves with an elated grin as they walked to the main entrance of Shujin Academy.

“That was totally insane! That bastard really did admit everything.”

“I finally avenged Shiho.” Ann nodded in a contented smile. “Thank you, both of you.”

“Don’t forget about Morgana.” Akira smiled as the black cat poked his head out of his school bag.

“A resounding success if I say so myself! And now we know that we can change someone’s heart safely.” He purred.

“So Kasumi’s our next target right? I’m kinda pumped! I wonder what her Palace is-”

Ann jabbed Ryuji in the side and gestured towards the entrance where Sumire was stepping out with an anxious expression.

“Hi guys, sorry to keep you waiting.” She smiled, attempting to hide her poor mood.

“Ryuji and I will go on ahead and check which train we need to catch.” Ann said, dragging the blonde boy by the arm.

“H-hey, Ann?! We already know what-“

Ann dragged Ryuji ahead as he writhed under her vice-like grip, hurling all manner of confused protests.

Akira and Sumire stood alone outside Shujin Academy. The Trickster held out his arm for Sumire to interlock her own with. He said nothing but offered a reassuring smile. The young girl reciprocated and weaved her arm into Akira’s.

They walked side by side in silence until Akira spoke up.

“What’s on your mind?”

Sumire’s grip on Akira’s arm tightened as her body stiffened, retreating from Akira’s gaze. She sunk into her scarf.

“Mr. Kamoshida… He was like a completely different person. I-is that what will happen to Kasumi if we go back into that theatre?”

Akira had anticipated her question when he watched her react to Kamoshida’s outburst in the assembly hall, but the fact remained that he had no idea exactly what impact the change of heart would have on Kasumi. He fell back on the reason Morgana had offered.

“Kamoshida reacted like that because of all the awful things he did. Infiltrating a Palace should only remove any distorted cognitions: in Kasumi’s case, we should only remove the source of that grief. Right Morgana?” he said with a nudge to his schoolbag, knowing that Morgana would still be listening in.

“Yep, that should be the case.” Morgana affirmed with a nod. “But every Palace is different, there’s a lot that we won’t know until we go back into the Metaverse.”

“Right…” Sumire mumbled.

“Have faith. We’ll save Kasumi, I promise.” Akira asserted with a fierce determination.

Sumire stared at him with a dejected look but gave a gentle nod. She leaned into Akira’s side and tightened her grip around his arm as they walked to Shibuya station.

* * *

Kasumi stared at the ceiling with sullen eyes, wrapped in the tight comfort of her duvet. It was only the late afternoon, but try as she might, there was nothing she could do to will herself to do anything but lay lifeless in the hospital bed.

Her hospital room was dimly light as always: the wilted flowers had been removed from the vase which now sat empty on her bedside table, and the room was sparse with other decorations.

The day had been like most others: she’d woken up, forced herself through her physical therapy and spent a fleeting moment of pleasant conversation with Suzui-san.

There was one other highlight of her day, however. Just after noon, her nurse had escorted her to a small doctor’s office inside the hospital for her meeting with Dr. Takuto Maruki.

Kasumi still had her reservations about counselling sessions with Dr. Maruki: her boldness and confidence had always been some of her defining characteristics; the traits which her parents and sister had always praised and lauded her for. The need to rely on a counsellor felt like a betrayal of those attributes, but nevertheless, she had found herself sitting opposite the young counsellor one afternoon.

“So, Yoshizawa-san. Do you enjoy music?”

“H-huh?” Kasumi stumbled, thrown off by Dr. Maruki’s unexpected question. She’d thought he would ask about her gymnastics or therapy.

“I’ve found myself listening to more and more music recently. My partner is quite fond of music, but it was also prompted by a conversation I had recently with a young man. I found that both associate music with different things, so I’ve been trying to apply music to new experiences.”

Kasumi nodded quietly, unsure how to respond to Dr. Maruki. He recognised her hesitation and continued.

“Recently I tried dancing along to a music track I used to enjoy as a child, but I actually ended up falling over. See?”

Dr. Maruki pulled up his sleeve revealing a dark bruise on his elbow. He chuckled sheepishly.

“Even though I got hurt, my partner insisted that I should keep trying to dance. She knew that I enjoyed the song when I was young, so I think she wanted me to rediscover that positive association.”

Maruki rubbed the back of his head with embarrassment.

“But all I could think about was the possibility that I’d hurt myself again.”

Kasumi pouted, keeping her eyeline directed towards the window by their side.

“Balance and upper body strength are really important… That’s why some people can feel dizzy or fall over when they try and dance.”

Maruki blinked in surprise and offered Kasumi a pleasant surprise, recognising her willingness to open up to him.

“I thought I was just cursed with two left feet; I never would have considered how upper body strength could be important. Thank you for your insight Yoshizawa-san.”

Kasumi returned a feeble smile in silence. Maruki pressed his opening further.

“Is there anything that comes to mind that you have a positive association with?”

The young girl had considered the question idly, but her sombre expression did not falter.

“It used to be gymnastics… I loved it, more than anything. But now I can’t even stand on my own two feet, let alone take to the stage.”

As Kasumi continued to stare at the ceiling, she could still picture the sympathetic smile Maruki had offered her. The words he spoke still lingered in her mind.

“Does gymnastics still make you happy?”

Kasumi had toiled over the question: in the past she’d have responded immediately with a whole-hearted ‘yes’, but faced with Maruki’s question, her voice hitched in her throat and she struggled to give an assertive answer. In the end, Maruki had changed the topic, but she could not shake her fixation on his question.

Their session had ended shortly after that. Kasumi bid farewell to the jovial counsellor and was escorted back to her hospital room, where she found herself at present.

A knock on the door seized her attention. The door was gently pushed open as light from the hospital corridor spilled into a shadowy room, as the spectacled face of her younger sister peered around the door.

Kasumi pushed against the mattress to pull herself up to a sitting position.

“Sumire! You didn’t tell me you were visiting today.”

Sumire ran a hand through her hair with a nervous smile.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve sent you a text. I brought some friends from school… if that’s okay?”

“Of course!”

Sumire beamed, before leaning around the doorframe once more and inviting her guests. Kasumi watched as an entourage of people stepped into her usually remote hospital room: she recognised Akira, but not the pair of Shujin students that accompanied him, nor the black cat sitting in his school bag staring at her with bright yellow eyes.

“Wow Sumi, when did you become so popular?” Kasumi teased with a friendly laugh. The second year Shujin students chuckled as Sumire puffed out her cheeks.

“I hope you don’t mind us visiting, Yoshizawa-san.” Akira said respectfully, but Kasumi shook her head jovially; her ponytail swinging wildly behind her.

“Not at all! I really appreciate the company. I find myself getting more and more restless in this hospital room nowadays.”

Akira studied Kasumi’s face as she spoke: she seemed unwaveringly cheerful, but the haunting visage of her Shadow he’d seen in her Palace flickered in his peripheral like a phantom, staring at him with the severed noose hanging from her neck.

“I’m so glad I finally get to meet you Kasumi-chan; Shiho has told me a lot of things about you!”

Kasumi turned to Ann with a look of surprise.

“Oh! You must be Takamaki-senpai then! Suzui-senpai talks about you all the time, it’s so nice to meet you.”

She turned to Ryuji, who was standing awkwardly near the back of the room, running his eyes around the room with an idle expression.

“So, would that make you Sakamoto-senpai?”

Ryuji’s ears pricked as he heard his name, looking at Kasumi with a curious tilt of the head.

“Eh? Yeah, name’s Ryuji. But how do you know?”

“O-oh, well um, Shiho talks about you too.” Kasumi stammered a half-hearted excuse. “She says you’re a really good friend of Takamaki-senpai."

Akira watched as Ryuji blinked with confusion, while Ann mumbled something under her breath. He could’ve sworn he noticed a faint blush on the girl’s cheeks.

“But I’ve certainly not met you before!” Kasumi said excitably, reaching towards the ball of fur poking out of Akira’s school bag. Morgana leapt nimbly onto the bed beside Kasumi; while he was insistent with the others that he was _not_ a cat, that didn’t mean he wasn’t willing to play the role if it was necessary for their investigation.

At least, that’s the excuse he would give if he weren’t busy leaning into Kasumi’s affectionate hands scratching behind his ears and under his chin.

“So, this is where they’ve got you shacked up?” Ryuji mumbled as he sat down on a chair beside Kasumi’s bed. “Kinda gloomy…”

Sumire frowned at Ryuji and Akira shot him an irritated look. Ryuji’s approach was perhaps a bit insensitive, but he couldn’t deny that they needed to learn more about Kasumi’s state of mind.

“It’s not all that bad. The nurses are really nice, and I’ve got plenty of people to talk to like Suzui-senpai.” Kasumi deflected.

“What about your physical therapy sessions?” Ann inquired. “Shiho has asked me to watch her in some of her own sessions and it always looks like they’re so difficult for her. I hope you’re doing okay.”

“They’re certainly challenging.” Kasumi nodded. “But I’d rather try and get back to my usual self than mope around.”

“Wow…” Ann said with wide eyes. “You’re so strong… I hope you can do it!”

Kasumi smiled sweetly.

* * *

They all spoke a little longer until Akira split off from the group to go and fetch some food for everyone.

He jogged out of the front entrance and found a nearby chain that served ramen and beef bowls to go. Akira stood by the entrance as he waited for the food; his wireless earbuds were nested in his ears and his eyes drifted to a flier on the door that read ‘STAFF NEEDED.’

Akira could hear Morgana’s imperious comments in the back of his mind, something to the effect of ‘working a part time job could be an important step in becoming a diligent phantom thief’, but his train of thought escaped him when the person at the register handed him a pair of bags.

As he returned to Shibuya General Hospital and navigated the winding corridors towards Kasumi’s room once more, he raised an eyebrow as a familiar surgeon stepped out from a nearby hospital room with a clipboard in one hand and a pager in the other.

“Dr. Nakagawa. It’s good to see you.” Akira greeted cordially.

The busy doctor looked up from his clipboard and smiled.

“Ah, it’s good to see you well Kurusu-kun. Looks like your injuries have healed nicely.”

“All thanks to you.” Akira smirked.

Dr. Nakagawa chuckled, humbled by Akira’s flattery until the pager in his hand blared noisily. He peered at it and breathed a heavy sigh.

“I’d love to chat, but duty calls. Say, you’re here to visit Yoshizawa-san I presume?”

“That’s right.” Akira nodded.

Dr. Nakagawa peered around for any sign of other hospital employees, but the corridor was quiet.

“I know I can trust you; mind taking this to her room and hanging it on the end of her bed? It’s just a status report, but I’ve got a patient who needs my attention and they’re in a ward on the opposite side of the hospital.”

“Of course, consider it done.” Akira said plainly.

“Thanks kid.” Dr. Nakagawa smiled as he turned down the corridor away from Kasumi’s room. He walked swiftly and, after a moment, was out of sight.

Akira repeated the cautious looks around the hospital corridors for any staff or guests, but the halls were silent. He backed up against a nearby wall and peered at the report on the clipboard.

Most of the information pertained to Kasumi’s physical health: her injuries were still severe, and though it seemed her physical rehabilitation had been progressing smoothly, the hospital’s assessment was that it would still be several more months until she could walk comfortably.

With a sombre scowl, he flipped the page over, revealing an assessment of Kasumi’s vital signs: body temperature, pulse rate, blood levels, and so on. Akira brushed past it briefly, not finding anything that seemed useful, but the final page caught his eye.

It was an appraisal of Kasumi’s mental health.

He scanned the handwritten notes carefully. There were comments about Kasumi’s determination to regain her ability to walk and her insistence on multiple physical therapy sessions, but there were no observations of lethargy or depression. The only other thing that stood out was a note at the very bottom of the page: that Kasumi had met with Dr. Maruki for two counselling sessions.

Akira flinched as he heard a nearby door open, and quickly shoved the clipboard beneath his jacket. He returned to Kasumi’s room, where the girl and his confidants were waiting with joyful eyes and hungry stomachs.

The sun had begun to set when they all finished their meals.

“Thank you for treating me to a meal! Hospital food isn’t exactly renowned for its flavour.” Kasumi chuckled.

“I hadn’t forgotten. Every time my guardian Sojiro visited me when I was here, he brought heaps of leftover curry. I’m not sure I would’ve lasted without him.” Akira laughed.

“We’ll be sure to visit you more often.” Sumire said, but Kasumi shook her head bashfully.

“Oh, don’t worry, I know you’re busy with school and training, you don’t have to make time for me.”

Sumire opened her mouth to say something, but Akira interrupted.

“You must be tired Kasumi, apologies. We’ll leave you to rest if that’s what you’d like.”

Kasumi nodded, rubbing an eye with her hand.

“Thank you. And thank you all for spending your time with me.”

Akira led the Thieves out of Kasumi’s hospital room. As the door clicked shut behind them, Ryuji stretched his arms above his head with a loud yawn.

“I don’t get it; she seems more cheerful than anyone I’ve ever met.” He grumbled.

“To think she has a Palace where her cognition is distorted by grief… It seems impossible.” Ann mused.

“Well, we’ve learnt a valuable piece of information.” Akira surmised.

“What do you mean Senpai?” Sumire asked, tilting her head curiously.

“You remember that room we found at the bottom of a set of stairs?” he continued as Sumire nodded slowly. “Distinct places like that room in Palaces usually reflect a real-life location; we encountered something similar in Kamoshida’s Palace which was modelled off of the P.E. faculty office. I thought that room we found might have been Kasumi’s room here in the hospital, but I don’t think that’s the case.”

“Why’s that?” Ryuji asked.

“There was nothing in Kasumi’s room that bore any resemblance. The room in the Palace was ruined and destroyed; and covered with inferences that Kasumi was abandoning gymnastics. But I didn’t see anything in her hospital room just now that would allude to such cognitions.”

“So, Kasumi must associate those thoughts with another place in the hospital?” Ann queried.

“That’s my theory at least.” Akira shrugged. “We won’t know for sure until we return to her Palace.”

“What do you think Morgana-senpai?” Sumire asked, speaking towards Akira’s schoolbag which Morgana was so often nestled inside of.

There was a pause, until Akira peeled back the zip of his schoolbag further and looked inside.

Morgana was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

As the door clicked shut, Kasumi breathed a heavy sigh as if she had been holding her breath for hours. She shrunk into the soft bedding once more and enveloped herself in fabric.

With a hitched voice, she sobbed quietly against her pillow.

“Sumire’s fine without me…” Kasumi whispered beneath her breath to herself. “She has friends who support her where I can’t, and I’m just distracting her from her schoolwork and gymnastics training.”

Kasumi sniffled and wiped her damp eyes against the cover of her duvet. She inhaled deeply to try and calm her breathing.

She sunk into the pillow once more, wrapping the duvet up around her neck and face. Swallowed by the bedding, Kasumi was oblivious to the black cat skulking in the shadows of her room.

With deft agility, the cat leapt up to the door handle and opened the door, quickly escaping into the corridor outside.

Morgana spotted the Thieves a short distance away outside Kasumi’s room. His eyes met with Akira who sighed in relief, holding open his school bag for Morgana to hop back into.

“It’s just like in the Palace…” Morgana frowned. “She views the hospital as a theatre, so naturally she was putting on a performance around us. As soon as you all left…”

Morgana trailed off with a sigh.

“S-she started crying and making disparaging comments...”

“Oh… Kasumi…” Sumire sighed tearfully.

Akira nodded with a scowl. He’d suspected as much after he’d peeked at the report Dr. Nakagawa had entrusted him; Kasumi had seemingly maintained her façade around the hospital staff, but he wondered what had prompted her to meet with Dr. Maruki.

“We’ll go to the Palace tomorrow.” Akira announced. “We’ve got a better understanding of what to expect, and I know where we’ll find the Treasure.”

Ryuji and Ann nodded with determined expressions. Akira turned to Sumire, who looked at him with a conflicted expression.

“Sumire?”

The girl looked Akira straight in the eyes; the brief look of hesitation he’d spied was swallowed by a steadfast resolve.

“I’m okay…” she said. “I want to help Kasumi.”

“Alright.” Akira nodded, adjusting his glasses with his thumb and index finger. “Tomorrow it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! First of all, many apologies for the delay between the last chapter and this one. I've been incredibly busy with work recently, and I also celebrated my birthday at the end of September, so everything's been a bit manic. Hoping to return to more regular chapters from now on.
> 
> No comments on this one. The next chapter will likely focus predominantly, if not entirely, on Kasumi's Palace. Should be a good one! And always, thank you to everyone who's supported the story so far!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Phantom Thieves return to the Palace of Kasumi Yoshizawa.

“You should have told me you were bringing friends over…” Sojiro mumbled as Akira lead Sumire and his other schoolmates through the door to Leblanc. They’d gone straight to the humble café after school to plan their infiltration of Kasumi’s Palace.

“Hope that’s okay.” Akira smiled sheepishly.

“Yeah, it’s no problem, the place is quiet as always. There’s curry in the back, help yourselves. I’ll give you kids some space; ought to do some shopping anyway.”

“You’re the best Boss, thanks.”

Ann, Sumire and Ryuji reciprocated Akira’s thanks as Sojiro donned his white hat and jacket before exiting Leblanc with a wave.

Akira dropped plates of hot curry in front of each of his friends. Sumire and Ann smiled cheerfully with gratitude, while Ryuji’s face trembled with glee as he shovelled curry into his mouth with unfettered enthusiasm.

“So, we should talk about our plan.” Morgana interrupted, leaping up onto the counter next to the table.

“Right.” Akira said. “Our goal today is to get to grips with the layout of the Palace and find out what room in the hospital is linked to Kasumi’s distortion.”

“Huh?” Ryuji muttered with a mouth full of curry. “Ain’t we just looking for the Treasure?”

“We are.” Morgana affirmed. “But stealing the treasure will be easier said than done. Kasumi’s Palace is a theatre after all; we can’t be certain that everything we see in the Palace will be exactly as it seems.”

“When we went there last, I remember there was a version of me on the stage…” Sumire said with a dour expression.

“That was part of Kasumi’s deception.” Morgana continued. “At first, we thought the Palace was yours Yoshizawa-san, but it was just a trick Kasumi’s mind had pulled to divert attention away from herself.”

“You mean she doesn’t want anyone to see how she really feels, even inside of her Palace? It sounds like Kasumi’s Palace is the complete opposite of Kamoshida’s.” Ann mused.

“It’s much more dangerous too.” Akira added, adjusting his glasses. “We’ve got five Persona users now: it might be worth assigning one person to recon and strategy while the rest of us focus on combat. That ought to keep us safe.”

“Leave it to me!” Morgana purred. “I am the brains behind the Phantom Thieves after all!”

“Thank you Morgana-senpai!” Sumire chimed in, stroking under Morgana’s chin. “We’ll be safe under your guard I’m sure.”

“Guess that leaves the four of us for combat.” Ann nodded.

“Hold on a sec.” Ryuji interrupted. “Don’t we gotta decide on a codename for Sumire?”

“We already have.” Akira said, earning inquisitive looks from everyone but Morgana, even Sumire herself. With the attention of the room in the palm of his hand, Akira announced her codename:

“Violet.”

“Oh wow, that’s perfect!” Ann approved with a cheerful clap of her hands.

“Akira came up with it as soon as we left her Palace. It matches her costume as well.” Morgana grinned.

Sumire looked at Akira with a flattered gaze. She remembered Akira mentioning that Ann and Ryuji’s codenames were chosen based on their costumes, but for her codename to also allude to her real name made the title feel much more personal. Akira said nothing, simply offering her a warm smile.

“Alright c’mon, I’m getting restless just sitting here.” Ryuji hollered, dropping the plate on the table as it clattered noisily. “Let’s get moving already!”

“Alright.” Akira smirked. “Time to steal the show.”

* * *

The Thieves approached the brightly lit entrance to the Crimson Theatre: the Palace of Kasumi Yoshizawa. Ryuji and Ann stared in awe while Morgana and Akira peered towards the revolving door at the front of the Palace.

“This place is pretty rad.” Ryuji whispered.

“I don’t see any guards out front. You said you walked in through the entrance last time?” Ann queried.

“That’s right.” Sumire nodded. “I arrived on my own and walked straight inside. They welcomed me inside, in fact.”

“We’re not in our Phantom Thieves attire yet.” Morgana noted. “But even still, it might not be so easy this time.”

“The sign is different.” Akira noted, switching his eyeline between the front of the Palace and the ticket he’d received upon the first visit. A new play was being promoted on the bright neon signs: Violet Sacrifice.

He stole a glance at Sumire, reading the nervous expression painted on her face. He could tell she’d reached the same conclusion as he had: the play concerned her in some way. To what extent, neither could say.

“I mean, you guys walked straight in last time, and Kasumi was friendly with us yesterday. What’s the worst that could happen if we walk in?” Ryuji concluded, waltzing towards the entrance.

“Ryuji!” Ann yelled, stamping her foot with a bewildered expression as Ryuji carelessly approached the revolving doors.

A Shadow apparated outside the entrance as Ryuji drew near, startling the young teen. The Shadow was defined by the macabre mask across its face, but otherwise the creature wore formal attire.

“O-oh shit!” Ryuji stammered. He instinctively reached for his bludgeon, but the Shadow did not attack. Instead, it leaned forward with a deep bow.

“Welcome, Master Sakamoto. Please, come inside. You are the young madam’s esteemed guest, after all.”

“For real?” Ryuji mumbled, more so with relieved surprise than shock or awe.

“I can’t believe he got away with that…” Morgana said as the thieves joined him at the entrance to the theatre.

The Shadow at the door repeated his bow, but as soon as he turned to Sumire, the creature seemed almost flustered behind its emotionless visage.

“Y-young madam, what an honour! You and your guests are most welcome. Please, enjoy the show.”

Sumire stared with a confused look as the Shadow greeted her into the foyer exuberantly, extending a fan of VIP tickets in his outstretched hand. She looked at Akira with a reserved, measured stare.

“This is completely different from last time…” she whispered to him.

Akira nodded anxiously. He could still picture the sight of the Shadows grabbing at Sumire to haul her out of the theatre when he’d spotted her on their first visit. For her to suddenly be welcomed as an esteemed guest seemed a sudden change.

“Maybe this is because we visited Kasumi in the hospital?” Akira surmised. “If she was previously pushing us away, maybe this is a sign that she’s willing to open up?”

“Think we should play along for now?” Ann shrugged.

“Yeah, but let’s stay on guard.” Morgana chimed in.

Sumire accepted the tickets and handed them out to the other thieves. As they passed through the theatre’s revolving doors, Akira scanned the foyer.

The first thing that stood out was the sheer quantity of Shadows in the area: on their first visit the lobby was near empty, save for a few Shadows manning the counter where they received their tickets, but now the large room was teeming with Shadows. They loitered around the foyer dressed in formal attire, their faces hidden by the distinct masks all Shadows wear like a macabre masquerade.

A young woman’s voice blared through an intercom above them.

“Esteemed guests and patrons. The play will begin momentarily, please make your way through the eastern exit and find your assigned seats.”

Sumire’s eyes widened with recognition, confirming Akira’s suspicion. It was Kasumi’s voice: there was no mistaking it.

The hall murmured to life with excitable whispers as the Shadows shuffled in unison, not up the stairs to the grand auditorium, but to another entrance on the far side of the ground floor.

“Reckon we should follow ‘em Joker?” Ryuji asked, tilting his head.

“Not sure what other options we have.” Akira shrugged. “Let’s see what Kasumi has to show us.”

Akira stepped forward, following the crowd of Shadows as they moved to the new venue. The Trickster was expecting a similarly grand auditorium, but his eyes widened with surprise as he felt a chill in the air. He hadn’t noticed from behind the crowd, but as they approached the doorframe, he noticed that the passage led outside.

A half-constructed open-air amphitheatre stood in the middle of the Shibuya street. The Shadows hurried into seats all around a central stage.

But what caught Akira’s eye most of all was the fact that their surroundings were constantly shifting in a mirage of bright lights and colours. Rows of seats and additional stalls coalesced out of thin air, and the Palace itself was growing larger and larger.

“Woah…” Ryuji stammered. “The Palace is forming right in front of our eyes!”

“I’ve never seen anything like it...” Morgana hummed with awe, visibly thrown off by the sight. “To think a Palace could change and develop after it’s initially formed.”

“Maybe it’s changing because of some new distortion?” Ann queried, but Sumire shook her head.

“Kasumi is adamant on hiding her true feelings from us. Senp- uh, Joker and I saw how Kasumi really feels when we were first here, but now she wants us to believe that everything is exactly as she’s showing us.”

“So… you think Kasumi’s Shadow is manipulating her own Palace to make it seem like she’s okay? Is something like that even possible?” Akira pondered with a finger on his chin.

“I have no idea.” Morgana sighed with an irritated frown. “Kamoshida was the first Palace for me too…”

“Hey, ain’t there something off about these tickets?” Ryuji interrupted, staring at the groups of Shadows shuffling into the stalls.

They all inspected the tickets carefully, until a look of surprise appeared on Ann’s face.

“Oh, he’s right!” she exclaimed, pointing at the ticket. “They don’t specify any seats.”

“That’s because you’ll be joining me on stage.”

The voice from behind was instantly recognisable. Sumire’s stance turned stiff and tense, while Akira turned his head to the side to confirm his suspicion.

Kasumi’s Shadow stood behind them. Her attire was completely different from their first encounter: the ghastly visage of Kasumi dressed in a white gown with her legs blackened and a rope tied around her neck still haunted Akira’s thoughts, but the sight before him was unrecognisable. Kasumi’s Shadow wore a dazzling tawny gold dress which draped down onto the floor behind her and matched her iridescent eyes. A necklace with an ornate floral design graced her neck, and the girl’s hair was tied up in a bun.

“Kasumi…!” Sumire called out, her eyes glistening with emerging tears.

“It is as you say.” Kasumi’s Shadow continued. “This theatre represents a reflection of the real self: it can be manipulated to my every whim.”

“You don’t need to hide from us any more Kasumi. We’re here to help you.” Akira said adamantly, but Kasumi’s gaze narrowed with a piercing glare.

“So you say, yet what do you truly know about me? People wear many masks; even you pride yourselves on your hidden identities. You seek to meddle in the affairs of others, tamper with their hearts, yet can you say what it is that Kasumi Yoshizawa truly wants?”

The Trickster had no response. Akira grit his teeth and growled beneath his breath.

“Why are you being so defiant?!” Morgana scowled. “We want to help you Yoshizawa-san, we just need you to tell us where we can find your treasure.”

“You cannot ‘help me’ because I am in not in need of help. That is why I have brought you here. The first act will begin shortly, and then you will see that your interference here is unjustified.”

Kasumi’s Shadow stepped forward towards the stage before vanishing from sight completely, leaving the thieves stunned by her defiant proclamation.

“I thought a Palace was supposed to reflect someone’s true desires, like how Kamoshida was a pervy king in his. This makes no effin’ sense…” Ryuji groaned, the first to break the silence.

“It’s like she’s convinced herself that she can’t rely on other people… And now she’s manipulating her Palace to make it seem like she’s doing fine on her own, all as a means to whatever it is she’s trying to do.” Ann said.

“But that subconscious belief is strong enough to _alter_ her Palace.” Morgana speculated. “We have to be careful! It’s impossible to predict what we might encounter here.”

Akira turned back to the stage, now surrounded by tall seating stalls which blotted out the evening sky. With a gesture, he stepped forward.

“Come on, let’s go.”

The other thieves nodded and followed Akira onto the amphitheatre’s vast stage. Pairs of eyes stared down at them from above as they stood surrounded by countless Shadows. The only other presence on the stage was Kasumi’s Shadow who stood opposite them.

The young girl said nothing. She simply raised a hand and clicked her fingers.

A blinding, debilitating light engulfed the stage, causing Akira to stagger backwards from the sudden explosion of light.

* * *

Akira shielded his eyes with discomfort before the light faded. He looked around for his teammates, a sense of relief washing over him as he found Ann, Ryuji, Morgana and Sumire all reeling from the same assault. He rushed to Sumire’s side: she offered him a nod of reassurance that she was alright with a comforted smile.

The amphitheatre had vanished from sight completely. The five thieves now stood in a spacious living room. The smell of home cooking wafted in the air, and the quiet sound of a television contested with the busy sounds of kitchenware from afar.

Two girls sat in the room, no older than five or six. The younger of the two lay on her stomach kicking her legs in the air, her attention fixed to the grainy television screen. The older girl sat beside her wrapped in a blanket, equally fixated.

An ethereal voice rang out from above; Akira recognised it as Kasumi’s in an instant.

_“Once upon a time, there were two sisters. Comforted by typical childhood pleasures, they were naïve to the world and the hardships of life. But one day, just like any other, they were enchanted by an unfamiliar sight.”_

“Senpai…” Sumire mumbled, quiet enough to sound almost incoherent with a vice-like grip on his arm. “This is…”

She was interrupted by one of the children at the television.

“Wow…! Isn’t she pretty Kasumi?”

The name reverberated in Akira’s ears like a gong. He almost staggered with an uneasy balance; still dismayed by the illusion they found themselves in.

“Mmhm!” the other girl nodded, still utterly enraptured by the television.

“ _A young gymnast on the world stage, performing with all her heart. Her swift routine captured the girls’ imaginations; as she pranced across the stage, their eyes tracked her every leap, every pirouette, with unwavering admiration.”_

“So that’s Sumire and Kasumi…” Morgana affirmed quietly.

“I want that to be us, Kasumi…” the younger sister whispered with glee. “More than anything.”

Sumire’s grip on Akira tightened. Droplets laced her eyes, but she stared at the mirage with an anxious scowl.

“This isn’t…”

Suddenly the visage before them dissipated in a billowing shadow. The thieves stared in awe at the endless void they found themselves in.

Kasumi continued her narration.

“ _The sisters begged and pleaded with their parents. They practiced skips and leaps on their walk to school, pirouettes in the playground, until at last, their father finally relented. One week later, the sisters found themselves face to face with one of Japan’s finest gymnastics instructors.”_

A flurry of cherry blossom petals pierced the veil of darkness. Akira shuddered: the image evoking memories of the accident in Shibuya and his subsequent awakening in Shibuya General Hospital. The petals were followed by rays of light as the scene faded into view.

It was a spring morning, and cherry blossom petals fluttered on the wind through the window of a large gymnasium. Inside, two sisters stood side-by-side in pristine gymnastics uniforms, their hair tied in buns and hands clasped together nervously.

Opposite them was a middle-aged woman in lightweight sportswear serving as their instructor. She had her arms crossed over her chest and watched the girls with a stern expression.

“ _The instructor was harsh and militant, though just as the girls’ had wished for, she instructed them on the art of gymnastics. Both sisters threw themselves into their newfound passion wholeheartedly, but while the younger sister took to the sport with boundless natural talent, the elder sister struggled to match her sibling’s grace.”_

As if ordered by the voice, the young sisters pranced around the gymnastics mat. Sure enough, the younger sister excelled in every way.

“Don’t focus on your sister’s routine, Kasumi! Find your own rhythm and follow that.” The coach barked, watching the elder sister’s performance with a scrutinising glare.

The young girl’s face strained with focus. She leapt into the air with her legs outstretched, but as she landed back on the mat, her foot slipped, and she crashed down onto the floor. She scowled as if on the brink of a tantrum, but the coach approached her with an outstretched hand and a warm smile.

“Try it once more Kasumi. Focus on your own tempo and don’t overthink it.”

Kasumi sulked, but her coach persisted. She lifted the dour girl back to her feet and offered a reassuring smile.

“And if you nail this performance, I’ll buy you both an ice-cream. How’s that sound?”

Though her head remained drooped towards the ground, the sullen expression on the girls’ face wavered at the promise of ice-cream. She nodded with a sniffle.

“Stop this…”

Akira’s eyes were wrenched away from the illusion, as was the attention of his confidants, by Sumire’s desperate plea. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared at the scene in agony.

“It wasn’t like this! You can’t rewrite the past, Kasumi!”

Her exclamation echoed around the gymnasium, stunning the illusory children and their coach.

For a while, there was silence: like a video that had been paused mid-frame. All that could be heard was the quiet sound of Sumire’s anxious breathing.

Ann was the first to notice it. The sound of cracking glass pierced the stillness. Fractures raced across the windowpanes above the sports hall, but she stared wide-eyed as the cracks continued past the face of the window, painting an unnerving mosaic across the walls and ceiling.

Then, the illusion shattered.

In a single, disorienting moment, the scene in the gymnasium fell away and the familiar sight of the outdoor amphitheatre returned to view. The thieves were on stage, though they still found themselves face to face with a cognitive version of Coach Hiraguchi: Kasumi and Sumire’s gymnastics instructor. She spoke with a sickly, distorted tone unlike anything resembling human speech.

“The young madam is the arbiter of all that transpires here: the playwright who decides fate itself. Who are you to oppose her will?!”

Her features were swallowed by dark shadows as the cognitive apparition transformed into a Shadow: a female figure with two sabres in hand and dark, purple skin. The opponent flourished the blades to a raucous cheer from the spectators.

Akira looked around with a grimace. The Shadows that filled the seating around the stairs screamed violent and goading jeers. This wasn’t just an amphitheatre. It was a colosseum.

“Finally! Now this is something I can make sense of in this damn place.” Ryuji grinned, rolling his shoulder with his club at the ready.

“It’s just the one enemy, but they seem strong! Be careful!” Morgana advised.

“Violet, you’re still new to fighting like this, right?” Ann asked, earning a flustered nod from Sumire who was still unaccustomed to hearing her codename out loud. “Don’t push yourself to hard!”

“I’ll protect you.” Akira reciprocated with a determined expression, before turning back to their opponent. “Skull, with me!”

“You got it, Joker!”

Akira dashed forward with his gun drawn. He veered to the right, firing a series of shots towards the Shadow. With quick motions, the Shadow deflected the oncoming fire with a flash of their blades. The Trickster continued his barrage of bullets, but found himself unable to penetrate his foe’s defences.

Akira grit his teeth. He reached up to his mask and ripped it away, channelling Arsène’s power into his weapon.

“Arsène, ravage them!”

He fired, releasing a single powerful shot towards the enemy Shadow amplified by Arsène’s power. It attempted to shield the attack with its blades once more but failed to guard itself from the full force of the attack, staggering backwards.

“Now!”

“Let’s go Captain!” Ryuji cried. Captain Kidd rushed towards the Shadow, driving the hull of his ship into their opponent with overwhelming strength. The Shadow reeled from the attack, but quickly regained its composure.

“The hell?” Ryuji groaned. “How’s it still standing after an attack like that?!”

“The Shadows here are strong; much stronger than what we faced in Kamoshida’s Palace.” Akira warned him. “Mona, can you spot any weaknesses?”

“Nothing…” Mona yelled back. “It doesn’t seem especially resilient to physical attacks, but those swords make it difficult to breach its defence!”

Akira attempted a quick strike, but the Shadow countered with a frenzied attack, swinging the pair of sabres wildly. The black-clad thief blocked one oncoming strike with the short blade of his dagger, but he was too slow to shield himself from a follow-up slash. The attack left a long, but shallow wound across the front of his chest, as Akira panted to recover his breath.

“Close combat is dangerous…” he winced breathlessly. “We need to weaken it before we can fight with physical attacks!”

“Sounds like it’s our turn then!” Ann said, as her mask smouldered with blue fire. “Come, Carmen!”

“Cendrillon, aid me!” Sumire cried, as the black mask across her face dissipated.

The two feminine Personas, Carmen and Cendrillon, appeared side by side. The spectral beings balanced orbs of fire and light in their palms respectively, humming with potent energy. They released their fierce attacks in unison, striking the Shadow with a scorching blast of light.

As their spells made impact, the stage was rocked by an explosive wave of smoke. The crowd roared with excitement and frenzy until the smoke dissipated: the creature staggered to the ground, planting one of its swords into the ground to maintain an uneasy balance.

“You’ve got an opening!” Morgana shouted.

“Go get ‘em Joker!” Ryuji yelled with a hearty grin. Captain Kidd’s visage loomed above, bestowing an attack boon to the masked Trickster.

Akira aimed forward and released the grappling hook from his wrist. Whipping through the air, it fixed itself onto the Shadow and rapidly pulled Akira closer. Powered by the momentum from the grapple, Akira drove his dagger into the creature’s shoulder, inflicting a deep wound with a swift slash.

The Shadow cried out in pain, flailing its arm and releasing its grip on one of the vicious sabres. Recognising the opportunity, Sumire darted forward. The Shadow attempted a clumsy swing to deter her attack, but she dodged to the side and thrust her rapier into the creature’s chest. She pulled the sword back with a flourish, and the Shadow fell to the ground defeated.

“Phew…” Ann sighed, hurrying to Akira’s side to tend to his injury. “I don’t know how many opponents like that we can fight off.”

“Yeah, that was a rough one… You okay Joker?” Ryuji said.

“Right as rain.” Akira lied with a smirk, putting on a stoic expression as Ann treated the wound on his chest. “I think we can expect more where that one came from though.”

“What is the reason for your opposition?” a voice asked with a wavering intensity.

All of the thieves turned to see Kasumi’s Shadow, standing on the stage once more. She maintained a defiant expression, but Akira could recognise a frustrated look in her eyes; not unlike the one he’d seen in the sullen little girl from the illusion moments ago.

“We want to help you, the hell’s it gonna take for you to realise that?!” Ryuji shouted angrily, stamping his foot into the stage.

Ann turned to scold the blonde teen instinctively, but Kasumi’s Shadow shuddered with anxiety. It was the first time since returning to the Palace that her bravado and confidence had faltered.

“Y-you don’t understand.” She said bluntly. “Everyone was counting on me; everyone was expecting me to be the best. To fail or show weakness would be a betrayal of everyone’s faith in me: a betrayal of her dream. I never had the luxury of seeking help!”

“Striving for success doesn’t mean you have to walk that path alone, Kasumi! It takes courage to rely on others for help.” Ann responded with a pained expression.

“I’m so sorry Kasumi.” Sumire said. “Even now, I couldn’t help but see myself in that illusion, but you were struggling just as much as I was.”

She dried the dampness from her cheek.

“I always felt like I was in your shadow: that you were the one making our dream a reality while I simply followed. But now I realise that you felt just the same. I… I almost resented you; as if you represented this impossible peak that I was fooling myself into believing I could reach. But just as I looked up to you, you looked up to me. And instead of offering you love and support, I sulked and pushed you away.”

Kasumi’s Shadow said nothing, staring intensely at Sumire with her gleaming golden eyes.

She lifted her hand and summoned another illusion with the click of her fingers.

* * *

“ _As the two sisters grew, so did their talents: it wasn’t long before both were recognised all across Japan. Countless letters and invitations poured through the letterbox of their sleepy Tokyo apartment, pleading the sisters to lend their talents to schools from Hokkaido to Nagasaki. But their mind was made up with little deliberation: their home was in Tokyo, after all.”_

A blinding bright light stunned Akira, forcing him to shield his eyes with his arm, until a familiar scene apparated in front of him and the other thieves. It was Principal Kobayakawa’s office at Shujin Academy: the same place he’d found himself with Sojiro to finish his induction almost a month ago.

Except this time, it wasn’t his induction taking place. Kasumi and Sumire stood facing Principal Kobayakawa’s messy desk, where the overweight principal signed some paperwork. He struck a charlatan’s smile, flanked by Suguru Kamoshida and a first-year homeroom teacher.

“We’re delighted to welcome you both into our renowned school. As I’m sure you’re already aware, our sports curriculum is one of the best in all of Tokyo: I have no doubt your time here will be most fruitful to both of you on your path to international success.”

Kamoshida eyed the twins with a lascivious smile.

“I’m looking forward to working with you both as your supervisor. Especially you, Kasumi, I hear you excelled at your recent gymnastics meet.”

Kasumi shifted somewhat beneath Kamoshida’s praise, but she smiled sweetly and nodded.

“That’s right. All thanks to the support of my family and my coach.”

Akira’s eyes drifted as he heard whispers from behind him. Ryuji nudged Ann with his elbow.

“Hey, I thought Kasumi was making out that she was worse at gymnastics when we were in the gym and all, what gives?”

“She’s showing us illusions with false truths, but I think we got through to her Shadow when Sumire confronted her.” The blonde girl responded.

“So, something about this scene will be wrong, and we just have to correct her cognition?” Sumire asked, eliciting a nod from Morgana.

“It’s the most promising lead we have so far.”

Akira’s ears pricked. He shushed his allies fiercely and turned his focus to the stern-faced Principal Kobayakawa, who was midway through a declaration to the two sisters.

“…attendance here will come with conditions, as was discussed. Failure to perform in the upcoming national competitions will result in a revocation of your status as honour students.”

The illusory Sumire sprung to her feet with a furious look on her face.

“That’s not fair! We were promised that attending Shujin would give us the opportunity to pursue our gymnastics, but you’re saying that if we don’t excel in a competition you plan on punishing us?”

“Do not misunderstand, Ms. Yoshizawa.” Principal Kobayakawa said with a subtle, but venomous tone. “We recognise the exemplary talents of both you and your sister, but the privileges of an honour student serve as a… mutual arrangement, of sorts. The school will do everything in its power to nurture your development, but we expect results in return for that support.“

He leaned back in his flimsy chair; it creaked uncomfortably beneath his weight.

“It would be unfair on the other students if we bestowed such benefits to a student who offered nothing to the school, after all.”

The cognitive Sumire dug her heel into the ground more fiercely, snarling at the man with frustration.

“You want students from your school in the spotlight, but that’s _all_ you care about.” She mumbled under her breath.

Akira stared wide-eyed at the confrontation. He’d never seen Sumire exhibit such fierce behaviour before, let alone in front of someone with authority like a principal. He could scarcely believe it.

A glance at the real Sumire beside him betrayed the illusion in an instant. She frowned with a sullen stare.

“I can’t take credit for that Kasumi… You stood up to Principal Kobayakawa, not me.”

The room dissolved around them and the Thieves returned to the stage once more as the quiet of the Shujin office was replaced by the continued uproar from the crowd. The cognitive principal stood opposite, grinning with a sickly black pallor on his face.

“You’re right, brat. They took advantage of you and your sister, and you did _nothing!_ You don’t really care about that dream of yours, you just want to lay low and keep your head down.”

Sumire simmered with wrath. She stepped forward with her rapier in hand, staring down the Shadow opposite with a furious scowl.

“You don’t know anything about me!”

Surrounded by a baleful miasma, the principal transformed into a grotesque monster: sinister red eyes glowed on its bestial face, with the legs of a tiger and a serpent for a tail. It growled with a ferocious roar and bounded towards the thieves. With startling agility, it pounced forward, ready to rip at Sumire with its fearsome claws.

“Incoming!” Morgana warned with a shriek.

For a brief moment, Akira panicked. There was no time for him to draw his pistol, and the distance between them was too great for him to cover before the beast landed its strike. Nevertheless, when he saw the fearful expression on Sumire’s face as she fumbled for her weapon, he dashed forward to try and stop the Shadow’s attack.

Even if it meant throwing himself in harm’s way.

“Captain!”

With a thundering crash, Captain Kidd slammed into the Shadow, halting its charge with the bow of his ship. The Shadow’s feral claws wrenched and splintered the hull, but Captain Kidd held firm. Akira breathed a sigh of relief as he turned back to Ryuji, his face revealed beneath the mask that had vanished amidst blue flame.

“Whew, that was a close one, eh Joker?” he smirked.

Sumire stepped away from the Shadow, still growling in its attempt to break Captain Kidd’s guard. She gave a thankful nod to Ryuji, before brandishing her own mask in hand.

“Cendrillon, show them the strength of our determination!”

With a pirouette, a spectral blade of bright light formed in Cendrillon’s grasp. She vanished in a flash, striking the Shadow with bewildering speed.

“Woah, Violet’s Persona is pretty powerful…!” Ann stared in awe as Cendrillon continued her assault, delivering a series of quick, measured slashes. The ferocity of her attacks was matched only by the expression on Sumire’s face.

“Personas represent the will of rebellion.” Morgana reminded her. “The stronger that will, the more powerful her Persona will be.”

“Man, and here I thought we’d have to be the ones to show her the ropes.” Ryuji grinned.

Sumire gasped for heavy breaths as she delivered a critical strike to the Shadow, thrusting her rapier into its torso before retreating with a cartwheel.

“Panther, let’s finish this thing off!” Sumire shouted fiercely.

“R-right!” Ann nodded, as she leapt to her ally’s aid.

Akira watched with confusion as the arena flickered and blurred like a mirage. He pondered for a moment, before he rummaged in his coat pockets and pulled out the star he’d received from Jose in Kamoshida’s Palace. Sure enough, it glowed with a soft, violet light.

“A special move?! But they’ve not even discussed anything!” Ryuji yelled wide-eyed.

The stone platform beneath their feet transformed into a theatre stage, illuminated by a pair of spotlights: one on both Sumire and Ann side by side and another on the bestial Shadow. Sumire took a step towards the Shadow and brandished her gymnastics ribbon while Ann raised the leather whip before the spotlights vanished, plunging the girls into darkness.

With a sudden flash of light, the girls reappeared beneath the glow of the spotlight: Sumire lashed the Shadow with Ann’s whip while Ann flourished Sumire’s ribbon with a flirty smile before the spotlight dimmed once more.

The spotlight repeated this pattern of flickering on and off, and each time the girls were illuminated, they traded the ribbon and whip between them. Each flash of light brought about another crack of the whip, but with the speed of their deception it was impossible to follow which girl would deliver the next relentless attack, and which was merely serving as a distraction.

One final flash of light shone down on the Shadow, but neither Ann nor Sumire were anywhere to be seen. Then in an instant, both girls descended on the Shadow from above with Ann’s whip in hand, striking one final time with a deafening crack.

“Every flower has its thorns!” Sumire said triumphantly, flourishing her ribbon with an acrobatic pose, which Ann matched to the best of her ability. The battle arena returned to view as the Shadow collapsed in defeat.

“To come up with that kind of improvised move… Sumire’s a natural Phantom Thief!” Morgana cheered incredulously.

“Damn dude…” Ryuji mumbled, nudging Akira in the arm with his elbow. “You do _not_ want to get on that chick’s bad side.”

On the inside, Akira chuckled, but that didn’t stop him from returning the nudge to Ryuji with a disapproving glower.

As the Shadow dissipated in a sickly black ichor, Kasumi’s Shadow appeared on the stage once more. Her expression seemed increasingly pained and flushed with anger.

“I never asked to be some trophy or accolade for others to fawn over… Every time we got a letter of invitation from some prestigious school or sports programme, you were always so excited. But I could always recognise what they were really after: they just wanted another name to add to their list of successful alumni; another example to point to when insisting how great their teaching was. They didn’t give a _damn_ about your dream.”

Kasumi stared absently towards the floor, tears welling in her heavy eyelids.

“I always figured it was my responsibility as the elder sister. I couldn’t let you see how they were taking advantage of us: that burden was mine to bear alone.”

A heavy silence lingered, until Sumire took a slow step towards Kasumi’s Shadow.

“I… I never knew. It’s true that I often defer to you for all kinds of decisions: from important ones like which school to go to, to trivial ones like what clothes to wear. But to constantly be fighting to protect both of our dreams? I can’t imagine how… exhausting that must have been.”

Sumire faced her sister’s Shadow with desperate eyes.

“But things will be different, I promise! We’ll work together to achieve our dream; because I can’t do it without you!”

The two sisters locked eyes, both of their figures trembling with emotion. Sumire offered her sister’s Shadow a weepy smile, but Kasumi’s Shadow frowned gently.

She said nothing. She simply raised her hand and clicked her fingers once more.

* * *

Sumire was alone.

Akira was gone. There was no sign of Ryuji, Ann or Morgana either. Sumire was alone in the middle of Shibuya’s central crossing, surrounded by crowds of strangers. She stood among the horde of faceless commuters and passersby, lost amidst the mindless crowd.

A television broadcast dominated her view from a large screen on the side of a nearby building. A news anchor was speaking to camera beside a small picture in picture. Sumire stared in awe.

“People all across Japan are celebrating the international success of world-class athlete Sumire Yoshizawa, who brought home the first Olympic medal for Japan in over fifty years.” read the newscaster.

Sumire was paralysed by emotion. She knew that this had to be some illusion alluding to the future, but even still, she couldn’t help but be moved, hearing that their dreams had finally been realised.

But something was wrong. A pit in her stomach made her uneasy, twisting and turning itself into a knot.

“While Yoshizawa-san’s success is cause for celebration, it is also a time for solidarity.”

Sumire stepped through the crowds towards a group of people standing still near a crossing off of central Shibuya. Rain pelted the concrete pavement, and cherry blossom petals drifted on the breeze.

The crossing was littered with bouquets of flowers, framed pictures and handwritten messages.

The newscaster’s voice echoed around her.

“Today marks eight years since a tragic accident near Tokyo’s Shibuya Crossing: thousands of local residents have gathered to pay their respects to Kasumi Yoshizawa, the sister of the Sumire Yoshizawa who died in a car accident, and place flowers in her memory.”

Sumire collapsed.

She refused to accept the nightmare before her eyes. Her and Kasumi had always said they’d be prepared to make any sacrifice necessary to achieve their dream; they wouldn’t let anything stop them if it could be helped.

But not like this.

Her eyelids felt heavy as her vision flickered and waned. Sparse cherry blossom petals drifted to the surface of the road, placed atop puddles of rainwater.

Darkness overwhelmed her peripheral vision, swallowing the scene in a boundless void. Sumire found herself lost in the blackness.

Though this time, she was not alone.

Kasumi’s Shadow stood before her, once again dressed in the haunting guise from their first encounter. Her blackened legs were hidden amidst the shadow, and the severed rope around her neck was taut, imprinting a dark bruise on the surface of her skin.

“You may think that shattering these delusions will aid her true self; that dispelling the lies she’s led herself to believe will drive out her feelings of grief. But it is not so simple.”

The fact that the Shadow suddenly spoke about the real Kasumi as a separate being unnerved her. Kasumi’s Shadow took slow steps towards her, her unsettling, iridescent eyes stunned Sumire in place.

“You have revealed these truths: that Kasumi loathes the expectations others had of her; that she resents the treatment from others who yearn for your shared accolades to be their own. But one last truth remains hidden from you. A truth that you refuse to acknowledge.”

Sumire leaned forward as if crushed by an invisible weighed, clamping her ears shut with her hands. She shook her head with denial, silently pleading with the Shadow to stop. She knew all too well the implication from both her sister’s doppelganger and the illusory scene in Shibuya, but she couldn’t bear to hear it said aloud.

The Shadow offered no such mercy.

“Your sister, Kasumi Yoshizawa, was prepared to die that day.”

“You’re lying!” Sumire spat with denial. “That can’t be true!”

“The truth is elusive.” The Shadow continued, probing Sumire with an intense. “Her desires are muddled by grief. Seek the answer that lies beyond the veil.”

Sumire wracked her memory, painfully recalling each of Kasumi’s deluded visions for some kind of answer. In the first two illusions, Kasumi had transposed herself onto Sumire, but the third illusion was completely different. It made no sense to her: like a nightmare alluding to, but distinctly separate from reality.

Then, she stared at the Shadow with wide eyes, scanning her top to bottom: from the severed rope around her neck to the deathly pallor of her legs.

_Kasumi Yoshizawa was prepared to die that day._

“Everything that Kasumi has been through… All of that hardship…” Sumire mumbled with tears welling in her eyes. “It wasn’t for our dream. It was for _mine_.”

The Shadow’s eyes remained locked to hers, but she nodded with a gentle motion.

Sumire fiercely pushed against the ground, trembling with anger as she pulled herself to her feet. She glared at the Shadow with fury.

“But that is not my dream. My dream isn’t to stand on the world stage in triumph alone, but with her by my side. I refuse to accept any other outcome!”

“Go, then.” The Shadow ordered. “If you wish to save her, pursue the source of her distortion. You will find what you seek there.”

Sumire nodded, and the Shadow vanished.

For a brief moment, Sumire was alone once more, in a boundless space of nothing but darkness.

Then, she awoke.

* * *

“Sumire!”

Heavy impacts on her shoulders roused the girl from her stupor. She rubbed her eyes as she regained consciousness, propped up with her back against the wall in the central foyer of the Crimson Theatre. Ann and Ryuji were kneeling in front of her, still dressed in their Phantom Thief garb.

“What… what happened?” she mumbled, still in a daze.

“Kasumi’s Shadow clicked her fingers again and you completely zoned out, it was freaky: like you were mumbling in your sleep or something.” Ryuji said.

“I… I know where the Treasure is. We can save her.” Sumire insisted, but Ann shook her head fiercely.

“The security level is through the roof and there are Shadows everywhere; we barely got you out of that amphitheatre.”

As Sumire became increasingly lucid and her awareness returned, her expression turned grave and a chill raced down her spine.

“Where are Mona and Joker?!”

“Like Ann said, we got swarmed by Shadows.” Ryuji repeated, his voice raspy and laced with exhaustion. “Joker and Mona were holding ‘em off so we had time to get you outta there. They should be here any second.”

Despite Ryuji’s reassurance, Sumire couldn’t oust her anxiety so easily. Her body was overwhelmed with a debilitating exhaustion, but every fibre of her being was screaming at her to move; to rush out of the foyer and hurry to Joker’s aid.

“I’m sure Joker’s fine… right?” Ann said, making a poor effort to hide her concern.

Ann and Ryuji guarded their position with weapons at the ready. What felt like an eternity passed as the three waited patiently for their allies to storm into the foyer.

Until at last, they did.

Mona was the first to emerge from the entryway, scurrying in a full sprint with his scimitar in hand. Joker followed closely behind, his back facing his allies as he fired a salvo of pistol rounds at an unseen assailant. He dashed with heavy footfalls, staggering with an uneasy balance.

“We have to get out of here, now!” Morgana cried with panic. “Joker is-“

“Fine, I’m fine.” Akira interrupted with a subtle wince. Morgana stared at Akira with concern, but the Trickster’s fierce expression silenced him swiftly. “Sumire, can you walk?”

“Y-yes, I think so.” Sumire nodded, pulling herself to her feet.

Ryuji shrieked as a horde of Shadows began to spill out from the doorframe in the direction of the amphitheatre.

“Come on!” Ann yelled.

Not unlike their first infiltration, Sumire found herself dashing out of the entrance to the Palace in a panicked frenzy. Akira seized his phone and initiated the MetaNav app.

The landscape shimmered in a mesmerising distortion, until they found themselves outside Shibuya General Hospital beneath the setting sun.

“Hell…” Ryuji panted. “That was nuts…”

“Kamoshida’s Palace was challenging, but that was a on a whole other level…” Ann nodded with a gasp. “Morgana, Akira, are you two okay?”

“I’m good…” Morgana nodded drowsily.

“Yeah…” Akira said between heavy breaths. “I’m…”

Wavering with an uneasy balance, Akira fell backwards and collapsed on the ground unconscious.

* * *

By the time Akira regained consciousness, it was already well into the evening.

Akira’s eyelids opened to the dull low light of his room in Leblanc’s attic. His entire being felt stiff and his head throbbed with an aching pain, but against his body’s advice, he pulled himself to an upright position. He retrieved his glasses from the windowsill beside him and put them on, noticing a coarse bandage wrapped around his head.

He sighed, knowing he’d have one hell of a job explaining this to Sojiro, once he’d figured out what had happened himself.

“Akira, you’re awake!”

He smiled as the small feline frame of Morgana roused on the bed beside him. The cat gave him a reassured smile.

“I take it we made it out okay then?”

“That’s right.” Morgana nodded. “Though you passed out as soon as we left the Metaverse and smacked your head on the pavement outside of the hospital.”

Akira ran his hand across the bandage on his head with an embarrassed sigh.

“The heroic leader of the Phantom Thieves; felled by a concrete pavement.” He chuckled.

“Morgana-senpai, did you say something?” a voice called out from the bottom of the stairs, followed by the sound of footsteps. Sumire gasped with relief as she saw Akira sitting upright talking to Morgana.

“Senpai!”

She hesitated at the top of the stairs, leaning both towards Akira and back towards the stairs, wracked with indecision.

“I-I’ll go grab you some of Sojiro’s leftover curry!”

Sumire hurried down the stairs, almost tripping over in her haste.

“She was worried sick about you, you know. All she remembers after we fought that second powerful Shadow was waking up in the foyer with Ann and Ryuji.”

Akira looked at Morgana gravely.

“Did you tell her?”

“That you got seriously injured trying to hold off those Shadows? How could I not? You collapsed the second we got out of the Metaverse.”

He cursed under his breath. Akira could only imagine how mentally taxing their infiltration of Kasumi’s Palace had been on Sumire: he’d wanted to avoid burdening her with his own injuries.

Akira carefully pulled up his shirt and prodded his torso. He could still picture the skirmish on the edge of the theatre: a Shadow had left a deep wound just beneath his ribcage during his flight from the Palace, but the only sign of injury that remained was a darkened section of skin. It seemed as if injuries sustained in the Metaverse didn’t persist with the same severity in reality, but no doubt his injury had added to his fatigue. While reassuring to know that serious Metaverse injuries wouldn’t cause lasting damage, they’d have to be more careful: especially with time-sensitive infiltrations. He dared not assume they could get away with a fatal injury either.

Sumire skipped up the stairs once more with a tray in hand stacked with a bowl of hot curry, a mug of coffee and a bowl filled with clean water. She handed the tray to Akira.

“Here, you must be starving. Sit still and I’ll replace your bandage.”

Akira froze beneath Sumire’s gentle touch as she peeled off the bandage fastened around his head. He stared in shock as he saw dark patches of blood stained all over the bandage.

“Didn’t realise I hit my head so hard…” he said sheepishly, brushing loose strands of hair from over his eyes.

“You’re lucky we happened to be right outside the hospital.” She pouted. “Why didn’t you tell us you were injured?”

“I figured you had enough to worry about.” Akira frowned. “Sorry Sumire, and to you as well Morgana.”

“We’re just glad you’re okay.” The black cat nodded. “On the bright side, we know where to find Kasumi’s treasure. Remember that room we came across on our first infiltration?”

“How could I forget it.” Akira mumbled. “Reckon it’ll be there?”

“I think so.” Sumire nodded. “I finally understand Kasumi’s heart: her Shadow said that we can find what it is we’re looking for there.”

Sumire doused a cloth in the clean bowl of water and dabbed it against the back of Akira’s head, eliciting gentle shudders from the teen as he winced with pain.

“So, we can finally focus on securing an infiltration route?” Akira questioned.

“Not until you’ve recovered your strength.” Sumire lectured. “Though we probably won’t have to fight as much as we did today, that room from our first visit was still really dangerous. It won’t do us any good if you collapse in the middle of the infiltration.”

Akira’s objections fell on deaf ears as Sumire hushed his attempts to speak up. He looked to Morgana for support, but the cat shrugged him off with a brush of his tail.

“She’s right. We can’t underprepare for our next visit. We’ll hold off on returning to Kasumi’s Palace for now; there’s somewhere we can train and get stronger in the meantime.”

“You mean another Palace?” Sumire asked with surprise.

“In a sense. Truth is, I planned on taking these guys there before we discovered Kasumi’s Palace, but now seems like the perfect time.”

Akira looked at Sumire with a tense expression.

“Are you sure you’re okay with delaying Kasumi’s change of heart?”

Though it was plain to see that her face was riddled with anxiety, Sumire offered a slow, heavy nod.

“If we rush in ill-prepared, there won’t be anyone left to help Kasumi. If we need to wait a while and prepare, that’s what we’ll do.”

“Alright then, I’ll take a day or two to rest up, then we can go to whoever’s Palace Morgana has found.” Akira affirmed as Sumire finished tying a fresh bandage around his head.

“Whose Palace is it anyway, Morgana-senpai?” Sumire said with a tilt of her head.

“It’s _everyone’s_ Palace.” Morgana teased with a grin. “Mementos.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember when I said I was hoping to return to more regular chapters? Sorry about that...
> 
> Admittedly the last month has been a busy one for me, though I also really struggled to finish this chapter up. Given that the entirety of this chapter covers a Palace which doesn't exist in the base game, I really toiled over making this chapter as good as possible. And it turns out, writing a new Palace from scratch is actually really hard... 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter! Thank you all for your patience, and especially thank you to those who left kind comments in the meantime!
> 
> As for when chapter 14 will be out, I can at least promise it won't take as long as this chapter did. I'll start writing it this weekend, so we'll see!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira recovers from his injury with an unexpected guest. Two rivals compete in a game of darts. The Phantom Thieves embark into the unfamiliar realm of Mementos.

When Akira rose from his slumber the following day to the sound of birdsong, the morning was behind him. As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he read a new text message on his phone from Sumire through his blurry vision.

_I’ll get in early and tell Ms. Kawakami about  
your injury._

_You take it easy and recover your strength!_

Akira couldn’t help but smile at Sumire’s endearing insistence: it was flattering to see how strongly she cared for him, even though he still felt guilty about making her worry about the injury in the first place.

Akira peeled off the bandage once more, relieved to see only trace signs of blood from the wound to his head. He thought about cleaning it and reapplying it like Sumire had done the night before, but he figured Sojiro wouldn’t appreciate him unsettling any customers by walking downstairs with a bandage wrapped around his head.

He trudged down the stairs, gripping the handrail tightly as a wave of dizziness passed over him. Sojiro stood behind a counter cleaning a mug with a cloth, raising an eyebrow as he spotted the scruffy teen at the base of the stairs.

“Thought you were planning on sleeping through the whole day.”

“If it were up to me, I’d be back at school, but I think Sumire would have my head if she sees me there.” Akira said with a weak smirk, shuffling onto a seat beside the counter.

“Rightfully so.” Sojiro grumbled, staring at him with a sharp gaze. “Your friends came back last night, and you were draped over that blonde kid’s shoulders with a bandage wrapped around your head. You’ve got a real knack for getting yourself hurt, huh.”

 _‘If only he knew’_ Akira thought to himself, but he dared not say it aloud, nor did he dare to turn to face Sojiro’s piercing eyeline. Instead he glared at the countertop sheepishly.

“Sorry. I’ll be more careful.”

Sojiro sighed, rubbing the back of his head with the palm of his hand.

“It’s fine… Just spare a thought to your guardian every once in a while. I haven’t been able to lock up until you’re back safe after all.”

Akira nodded apologetically. He expected Sojiro to continue his tirade of scolding, but instead he shoved a plate of hot curry towards him on the counter.

“Now come on, eat up.” He said. “If you’re well enough to hold a conversation, you’re well enough to do some light work around the store. Won’t do you any good to stay cooped up in your room all day.”

Though his head still throbbed with a dull ache, Akira couldn’t muster a fair excuse to Sojiro’s suggestion. Akira savoured the delicious curry while he shrugged off the last of his fatigue. As he finished the last spoonful, he grabbed his apron from a nearby coat hook and begrudgingly shuffled behind the counter.

Fortunately, the café was quiet. It was midday on a weekday, so the only patrons passing through the front door were a chatty retired couple and a self-employed film critic, who after some brief interrogation, dug his nose into a laptop in the corner of the café.

It wasn’t until the early afternoon when the café was empty once more that an unusual customer caught Akira’s eye. A young girl with striking hazel eyes and long brown hair that ran down her back stepped through the front door: she wore a long coat that fell to her knees, and her face was concealed by both a scarf and glasses.

He eyed the girl discreetly as she looked around the interior keenly. Akira diverted his attention to a dirty coffee mug, wary of alerting her to his inquisitive eyes; he imitated Sojiro as he cleaned the mug with a rag as the young girl approached the counter and sat on a stool opposite.

“Hey there, could I get one house blend?”

Sojiro briefly looked the girl up and down with a raised eyebrow but he nodded and turned to Akira.

“Hey kid, can you handle it?”

“Yeah no worries.” Akira responded.

He stepped over to the coffee filter and started preparing the mug, still watching the girl survey the interior of Leblanc exuberantly.

“You’ve got a nice place here.” She hummed. “It’s comfy; almost reminds me of my hometown.”

“You can thank Boss for that, I’m not much of an interior designer myself.” Akira chuckled.

“You _do_ seem awfully young.” The girl teased. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“Normally I would be, but I cracked my head on the pavement last night. Taking the day off to recover, but that doesn’t stop the old timer from putting me to work.”

“Hey now,” Sojiro butt in with a scowl, “that’s no way to thank the one who’s been putting plates of curry in front of you every morning. If you want to eat, you gotta work for it; I’m sure this mature young woman would agree.”

The girl giggled cheerfully with an overexaggerated nod.

“Most certainly.” She nodded with a cheerful grin. “But more importantly, is that what that wonderful smell is? Would a small plate of curry be too much to ask?”

“Not at all.” Sojiro chuckled with a charming smile. “Coming right up.”

Sojiro and Akira placed both a piping hot plate of curry and a steaming mug of coffee in front of the girl. She cooed excitedly, nodding her head with gratitude.

Akira watched her as she ate the curry with a contented smile. It puzzled him to see her still in such warm clothing; the weather outside was a little breezy, but it was hardly cold enough to warrant a heavy coat and scarf.

Moreover, despite her teasing comments about his absence from school, the girl couldn’t have been more than a few years older than himself. She hardly fit in among the usual group of patrons Leblanc would receive at this time of day.

“You can hang up your coat and scarf by the way.” Sojiro chimed in, clearly sharing Akira’s wandering thoughts. “The place is empty, not like anyone’s going to make off with them.”

Akira swore he saw a brief look of hesitation on the girl’s face, before she shrugged and took off her coat and scarf, hanging them over the back of her chair. The teen’s eyes widened with recognition. The smart blouse the girl wore beneath her coat was much different than her vibrant attire when they’d first met, but now that Akira could take a good look at her face, he identified her immediately.

“M-Ms. Kujikawa?”

“The one and only.” She winked with a giggle. “Took you long enough. And what, I’m ‘Ms. Kujikawa’ here but ‘Rise-chan’ in the studio? Your boss must have you on a tight leash, huh.”

Akira felt flustered behind the counter, suddenly feeling like his dishevelled appearance wasn’t up to scratch in the face of an idol, but her carefree expression dismissed any assumptions he might have had that she was concerned with his presentation.

“Hell, kid. How do you fail to recognise one of your own friends?” Sojiro scowled. “Terribly sorry miss.”

“Oh no, please, it’s alright.” Rise insisted, waving her hands. “I have quite the… recognisable face, so I tend to dress up in a way that makes it harder to spot me in public. Best piece of advice my manager ever gave me.”

“That so? Now that you mention it, I do feel like I’ve seen your face before…” Sojiro said, rubbing his chin with his finger. “Well, no matter. We don’t get too many customers here, so hopefully you can relax and enjoy a moment of respite.”

“That’s very kind of you, thank you!” said Rise, bowing in her seat politely before turning towards Akira.

“As for you…” Rise purred, leaning in towards Akira with a teasing smile. “Tell me, what part of my stupendous disguise threw you off? Was it the coat? The scarf? Oooh, I bet it was the glasses!”

Rise adjusted the pink frames with the ends of her fingers striking a stylish pose. Akira couldn’t help but chuckle as he adjusted his own subconsciously.

“The hair.” He answered, putting an end to her speculation. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without pigtails. It actually reminds me of how my girlfriend wears her hair.”

“Is that so? Well hate to break it to you, I only ever wear it down when I’m undercover. Normally I wear my hair just like you saw at the studio, but that makes it too easy for people to recognise me.”

A thought crossed Akira’s mind as he recalled the conversation he’d had with Rise at the beginning of the week. The same conversation that had propelled both himself and Sumire into a Palace.

“Hey, Rise-chan.” Akira said slowly, his mind trying to catch up with his mouth as he thought of how best to ask his absurd question. “After we split off on Monday, did anything… strange happen to you?”

The girl’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, trying to read Akira’s face for any secrets to his vague question, but she gave up and shook her head dismissively.

“Nothing that comes to mind.” She said, taking a sip of coffee and nursing the mug in both hands. “After you took off, Akechi-kun walked me back to the apartment I’m staying in here in Tokyo. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, well,” Akira stammered for an excuse, “there were a lot of people in the audience talking about you. I was just worried someone might hassle you if they saw you after the show.”

“It’s kind of you to worry, but you don’t get as far as I have in that industry without knowing how to deal with stalkers.” Rise said with an amused smile. “Besides, Akechi insisted on escorting me out so it was no big deal.”

Akira breathed an internal sigh of relief hearing that Rise hadn’t somehow been roped into the Metaverse like Sumire had, but that fact tugged at the back of his mind. He was closer to Rise than Sumire was to him during their conversation proximity-wise, yet while Sumire was pulled into the Metaverse, Rise wasn’t. He dismissed it as one of the Metaverse Navigator’s many quirks for the time being.

“He’s quite smitten with you, you know.” Rise continued, pulling Akira back into the conversation from within his stream of thoughts. “He’s the one that recommended this café to me after all.”

“Akechi?” Akira remarked with surprise. “I suppose he’s the only person who could’ve directed you here.”

“Especially considering you never sent me a text so I could get your number.” Rise added with a pout. “Don’t worry, I know that’s Akechi-kun’s fault and not yours, but I suppose it meant I got the chance to visit this place.”

Before Akira could respond, a bell chimed as the front door swung open, and the all-too-familiar voice of blonde second year invaded the atmosphere of the café.

“Hey-hey Boss!” Ryuji grinned. “Maaan, I’d kill for some of that curry from the other day!”

“Ryuji, you can’t yell like that as soon as you walk in!” Ann scowled beside him. Akira could see Sumire behind them, as well as Morgana’s black head poking out of her school bag.

Sojiro breathed a heavy sigh as he grabbed a plate and turned towards the pot of curry in the kitchen. Rise flashed a wink to Akira and slipped her coat and scarf back on.

“Sounds like it’s time I take off.” She whispered. “Next time we hang out, it’s on me. Don’t be a stranger!”

She penned her number on the napkin and swiped it towards Akira on the table alongside the payment for her meal. Hopping off the stool and adjusting her disguise once more, she slipped out of the café.

Ryuji leapt into a booth in the middle of the room with Ann opposite him, while Sumire replaced Rise at the counter beside Akira. She placed her bag on the seat next to her as Morgana hopped out and sat on the counter.

“Senpai, was that Kujikawa-san? From the studio?”

As soon as he overheard the name, Ryuji’s head spun like an owl and his eyes locked with Akira’s.

“Yeah, she swung by for a cup of coffee, if you can believe it.”

“Wait-wait-wait-wait.” Ryuji stammered. “F-for real? T-that girl that just left was…”

Akira nodded with bemusement as Ryuji’s jaw dropped with a stunned expression. He frantically shuffled out of the booth and raced towards the door, but Ann grabbed the collar of his shirt and reeled him back.

“Oh no you don’t. The poor girl probably deals with enough slack-jawed fanboys on a daily basis. She doesn’t need you bothering her.”

Ryuji slumped back into the booth with a sulk as Sojiro served a helping of curry to both of them. He leaned over his shoulder towards Sumire.

“What about you? Can I get you a plate of curry?”

“That’d be wonderful Sakura-san, thank you.” Sumire said graciously with a bow.

Sojiro retreated into the kitchen once more to fetch another serving. Akira took the opportunity to lean in towards Morgana with a whisper.

“Morgana, do you know much about the Meta-Nav?” he asked.

“Not any more than you do.” He frowned.

“I asked Rise-chan if she noticed anything strange after our conversation on Monday; I suspected she may have been dragged into the Metaverse just like Sumire was, but it sounds like nothing happened.”

“While that _does_ seem odd, we’ve got other things to worry about for now.” Morgana grimaced as Sumire reached into her school bag. She pulled out a heavy stack of papers and booklets.

“I got these from Ms. Kawakami.” Sumire said. “When I mentioned you might need to take a few days off of school to recover, she said I should bring you these so you can prepare for your exam next week.”

Sumire was interrupted by the sound of a hacking cough as Ryuji choked on hot chunks of curry. He cleared his throat and took a long swig from a glass of water before turning to Sumire with a desperate expression.

“N-next week?! You’re joking, right?”

Both Sumire and Ann stared at him with a look filled with both disappointment and a complete lack of surprise.

“Didn’t you pay attention to the school newsletter last week?” Ann sighed. “They’re doing each year’s mid-term exams week-by-week this time. The third-years are taking their tests this week; ours are next week, and then first-years like Yoshizawa-san will have theirs from the 11th.”

“Why are you worried Ryuji? It’s not like you planned on revising anyway.” Morgana teased.

“S-shut up!” Ryuji spat with a defiant tone, but the other thieves sighed knowing Morgana had hit the nail on the head.

Sojiro returned with a subtle smile on his face, chuckling from the conversation as he handed Sumire the plate of curry. He swiped his hat from a nearby coat hook and gave Akira a nod.

“Running to the store ‘round the corner, keep an eye on the place would you?”

Akira nodded diligently as Sojiro shut the door behind him. As soon he left, Akira turned to Morgana.

“What about Mementos?” He said. “Shall we check it out to-“

Before Morgana could get a word on, Sumire was shaking her head vehemently, puffing out her cheeks in frustration.

“Nuh-uh, not happening. It’s not even been a day since we went to Kasumi’s Palace, and need I remind you about your head?”

It only took one look for Akira to tell that Sumire was unwilling to back down. He shrugged.

“Okay, fine. So when _will_ we go to this Mementos place?”

“What about Sunday?” Ann proposed. “That gives Akira another two days to rest up and get some studying done, plus another few days before the first day of exams. It’ll be a nice break from revision too.”

“That gives us a few days to pawn off that medal we got from Kamoshida as well.” Ryuji said excitedly. “Bet that guy in the airsoft shop will give us a hundred thousand yen for it if we tell him it’s real.”

“Okay, but only if Senpai is feeling better by then.” Sumire nodded. “In the meantime, while we’re all here, why don’t we study together?”

* * *

The Thieves spent the rest of the afternoon seated around the booth in Leblanc until Sojiro shooed them upstairs when business picked up. They borrowed a spare table from the ground floor and hurried up to Akira’s room.

Ryuji shot Akira a teasing glance when he spotted the sofa with a blanket on top pulled up beside his bed, which he had yet to move from when Sumire had stayed the night, but a sharp glare silenced any further ridicule from the blonde teen. They planted the table in the middle of the room and surrounded it with chairs.

Though Akira felt ill-prepared for his exams himself, he quickly fell into the role of leader for their study group. Ryuji had only a faint level of competency in all of the subjects they covered, and while Ann excelled in English, she didn’t fare much better in other subjects. He tried his best to tutor his two second year friends. Thankfully Sumire was able to assist him in some subjects; she had an adept knowledge of both English and Maths but couldn’t help with topics she hadn’t learnt yet.

Ryuji and Ann departed as the sun began to set, followed by Sumire after spending a little more time together with Akira.

Friday and Saturday afternoon were much the same: while Akira took advantage of his injury to stay at home, he worked through the materials Sumire had given him from Ms. Kawakami, occasionally taking breaks to do some light reading. He delved into a lengthy text chain initiated by Ryuji, who was no doubt slacking off in his class, and also dropped Rise a text to ensure she had his number.

Though the conversation with Ryuji was largely inconsequential, the teen did bring up one interesting topic.

_Oh yeah! You remember that Mishima kid?  
The one who was getting bossed around by Kamoshida?_

_He made a website! Must’ve been working  
on it ever since Kamoshida confessed._

_Check it out!_

Akira clicked on the link as a glossy red and black website appeared on his screen.

“The ‘Phantom Aficionado Website’, a fan-site for the Phantom Thieves.” Akira read aloud as Morgana peered at the phone screen over his shoulder.

A poll dominated the home page, asking the site’s visitors whether they believed in the Phantom Thieves of Shujin Academy or not. Akira struggled to feel surprised by the results: a measly 3.6% believed they were real with an overwhelming majority against.

“Forget that!” Morgana hissed. “What’s that on the sidebar?”

Akira navigated to what appeared to be a message board: dozens of posts from both registered and anonymous users filled his screen with requests. It seemed a novel concept, and Akira couldn’t dismiss the possibility that the site could point them towards a Palace, but most requests seemed to amount to annoying teachers, parents, or boyfriends.

It wasn’t long until Akira tossed his phone to the side once more and delved into his studies once more. He was halfway through a textbook on the Heian period of Japanese history when his phone buzzed. The Trickster seized his phone from the side of his desk expecting another languished comment from Ryuji about whatever class he was in, but he raised an eyebrow when he saw a text from an unfamiliar number.

_Hello Kurusu-san, it’s Goro Akechi,  
I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time._

_I was wondering if you were busy tonight?  
There’s a place I’d like to take you, if you’re interested._

The text seemed innocuous enough, but Akira had figured out by now that none of Akechi’s invitations were without reason. Moreover, his text had reminded Akira of something he had to confirm regarding the young detective.

He found the Meta-Nav app icon on his home page and tapped it, bringing up the sinister-looking interface. Akira cleared his throat.

“Goro Akechi, the student detective known to the public as ‘the Detective Prince.’”

There was a brief pause as the app registered his input, until a robotic voice chimed out aloud.

_No candidates found._

Akira relaxed the tension in his body. He wasn’t sure whether he had expected Akechi to have had a Palace or not, but there was something relieving about debunking the notion.

He closed the app, double-checking that the app’s voice-recognition was disabled, before he turned his attention back to the text that remained unanswered. Akira pondered for a moment, before tapping a response.

_Sure thing. Send me the address and I can meet you there._

* * *

“Penguin Sniper…?” Akira read aloud on the Kichijoji street, staring up at the bright sign of the game parlour.

“I suppose the name _is_ a little fanciful.” Akechi hummed, placing a finger on the side of his chin. “I figured you could use a respite from your studies, much like I need a respite from my investigations. What say you?”

“You’re on.” Akira nodded.

The pair stepped into the darts & billiards club. After a brief exchange with the staff manning the counter, the pair had free reign over the club’s activities.

“Darts or billiards. Do you have a preference?” Akechi inquired.

“Let’s go with darts.” Akira proposed, stepping up towards the electronic dart board.

“Alright.” Akechi nodded. “We’ll play competitive 301: we each throw darts, three at a time, until one of our scores reaches a cumulative total of 301 points.”

Akira smirked. 301 darts could be played both co-operatively and competitively: it was no surprise to him that Akechi sought a competitive game.

“The first round is yours.”

Akira picked up a trio of lightweight metal darts and balanced them in his hand. Standing in front of the dart board at a side-on angle, he steadied his posture. Akira hadn’t played much darts before, but thankfully the keen senses he’d trained in the Metaverse gave him an advantage as he focused on his target: the triple twenty bed.

With a measured patience, he released his first throw. The dart cut through the air as straight as an arrow, sinking into the dartboard just below the bed of the inner circle scoring a simple twenty points.

Akira grit his teeth and refocused, releasing another dart. Fortunately, his aim was true: the second dart scored a solid sixty points, placed just above the first.

Akira thought he heard a bemused chuckle beneath Akechi’s breath from behind him, but he didn’t let it distract him as he readied himself for the third and final throw of the round. The dart sunk into the triple-twenty bed, brushing his second dart to the side. He nodded contentedly with a first-round score of 140.

“So that’s how you play, is it?” Akechi said curiously with a narrow gaze. “Interesting. My turn.”

Akechi stepped up to the position and turned his body, balancing the darts in his gloved right hand. Something about his posture was uncanny to Akira, but he didn’t have time to come up with any theories before Akechi spoke up.

“You’re probably wondering if there’s some specific reason for my invitation today.” Akechi said as he effortlessly threw a dart into the centre of the board for a bullseye.

The question had been on his mind, but he dared not interrupt Akechi’s monologue. Furthermore, it would be unsportsmanlike for him to speak up while Akechi were throwing.

“A most peculiar case has been assigned to me by the SIU; about a teacher from the school you attend, I gather.” Akechi continued, unfazed by Akira’s silence as he buried another dart into the bullseye. “I’ve yet to receive all of the details, but it sounds as if the man simply woke up one day and decided to confess to a slew of crimes. I can’t say I’ve ever heard of anything like it.”

Akechi threw his third dart. Predictably, it sunk into the bullseye, tightly nestled between his first two throws. He gave a contented nod before removing the darts and stepping aside.

“The floor is yours.” He smiled.

Akira stepped up to take his turn throwing darts, but it was also his turn to respond. He considered his words carefully as he aimed the dart.

“You mean Kamoshida, right?” Akira affirmed, closing one eye as he tossed the dart: a confident triple-twenty. “He just stormed into a school assembly a few days ago and started sobbing about all the terrible things he’d done.”

Akira released his second dart. It spun in the air as it veered to the left and collided into the 12-point bed.

The Trickster cursed under his breath, shifting his focus to his final throw rather than continuing the discourse with Akechi. Calculating the score he’d need to reach the necessary 301 points, he adjusted his aim to the right and tossed his final dart of the round. The steel tip sunk into the triple-thirteen bed: fifty points away from his goal.

“Maybe he grew a conscience overnight?” Akira shrugged, attempting to come across as blasé as he recovered his darts and stepped aside.

“Perhaps.” Akechi said with a tense expression. “Though I am of the belief that people cannot change their nature so easily.”

With a patient swiftness, Akechi tossed his three darts back-to-back, each scraping past the last as they pierced the surface of the bullseye. One hundred and fifty points were secured by the young detective without breaking so much as a sweat.

“After all, humans are motivated by self-interest.”

“And you Akechi-san? Are you motivated by self-interest too?” Akira retorted.

Akechi chuckled as he plucked the darts from the dartboard. He turned his head over his shoulder.

“My interest is to see justice carried out, though to that end, I suppose I am.”

Akira inherited Akechi’s position in front of the dart board: one final bullseye would allow him to end the game with seven darts thrown. He took up his posture, focused his aim on the centre of the dartboard and threw the dart forward.

The dart swiftly pierced the air. The quiet sound of metal striking metal rung out as the dart clipped the spider. Striking the dartboard’s metal frame had pushed the dart up into the twenty-point segment, just shy of the outer bull.

Akira picked up another dart with a dejected grimace, but nevertheless, he turned his focus to the 15-point segment. He sharpened his senses and tossed the dart, landing it neatly in the centre of the outer ring: double-fifteen brought his total to 301 in eight darts.

“A commendable effort.” Akechi praised from behind him with light applause as Akira reclaimed the two darts. “Considering the minimum number of darts necessary for a score of 301 is six, finishing in only eight darts is nothing to be scoffed at.”

Akechi picked up only a single dart, took a brief moment to aim and tossed it into the one-point segment, granting him a final score of 301 in only seven darts.

“Nevertheless, it seems the game is mine.” He said with a smile.

Akira smirked.

“You’re a formidable opponent Akechi-san. But as you say, the victory is yours; let’s commemorate it with a handshake.”

Akira waited with his hands in his pockets for Akechi’s response as the detective eyed him with bemusement.

“Is this perhaps a custom of yours?” Akechi said curiously. “Very well, if you insist.”

Akechi extended his left hand. Akira accepted the handshake with a grin.

“You were holding back, weren’t you? Not only were you aiming for the bullseye instead of a triple-twenty, but you were using your non-dominant hand.”

“Hm.” Akechi hummed with a faint smile. “How very astute of you. Indeed, I am left-handed. I felt it would be unsportsmanlike to go all out against an amateur.”

“Well then, I’ll just have to beat you next time and force you to use your dominant hand.” Akira retorted.

After another few rounds of 301, all of which were won by Akechi, the two teens stepped out into a chilly evening on the Kichijoji street.

“So tell me.” Akira said as they exited Penguin Sniper’s brightly lit entrance. “What’s going to happen to Kamoshida.”

“Well naturally, I can’t go around revealing information about an ongoing police investigation.” Akechi said with cheek. “But to speak in hypotheticals, my role in a case like this would be to ascertain the truth behind his confessions as well as his reason for confessing. Many individuals have admitted to crimes for all manner of nefarious reasons after all: blackmail; ransom. Only once we’ve uncovered the whole truth behind the matter will we pass a sentence.”

“So, there’s a chance Kamoshida will go free?” Akira asked, his body stiff with anger as he speculated the possibility.

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Akechi surmised. “After all, the police had their eyes on Shujin well before this confession. And besides, if the police were making arrests for every baseless confession, you’d see every other drunkard from here to Shinjuku imprisoned. I don’t expect Suguru Kamoshida will evade justice.”

“I see.” Akira responded.

Though he attempted to be cryptic, it seemed as if Akechi sensed the relief his answer had given the Trickster. Akira considered asking Akechi if the rumours about the Phantom Thieves had come up in his investigation but decided against it: drawing the detective’s unwanted attention could intrude upon their mission to change Kasumi’s heart.

“Did you invite me here just to update me on Kamoshida then?” Akira pressed. Akechi shook his head.

“Well, I figured you’d be curious given you were slated for expulsion by the very same man. But no, truth be told, I simply wished to partake in a moment of reprieve. I do enjoy the rivalry we share, after all.”

The young detective gave an earnest-enough smile. Akira couldn’t dismiss the possibility of some ulterior motive so easily, but he reciprocated Akechi’s courteous smile nevertheless.

“We’ve got a little more time.” Akechi noted, pointing at the wristwatch beneath his sleeve. “That jazz club is but a minute’s walk from here, if you’re interested?”

* * *

Sumire pushed open the door to Leblanc, escaping the Sunday morning chill as she slipped into the café. Sojiro Sakura was seated behind the counter nose-deep in a crossword puzzle until the entry bell caught his attention with a chime.

“Oh, hey kid.” He said with a warm smile. “Surprised to see you here so early. Want me to go wake him up for you?”

“No, it’s alright Sakura-san, I’m happy to wait. I’d love a cup of coffee though.”

“Sure thing.” He nodded.

The young girl waited patiently before Sojiro placed the coffee in front of her and turned his attention back towards his crossword. Sumire sat by the counter with her hands wrapped around the mug, idly swinging her legs in a contented silence, until Sojiro’s mumblings caught her ear.

“A verb to confess one’s faith in… Hmm…” he muttered.

Sumire peered over the top of the counter to spy on Sojiro’s crossword. His pen was tapping beside a row of unfilled boxes: seven letters, with an R already filled in.

“Could it be ‘profess’, Sakura-san?”

Sojiro looked up at the girl in surprise, taking a moment to register what she’d said. His eyeline shifted between the clue and the empty boxes before he nodded with a sly grin.

“Not bad kid, I think you’re right. Here, see what you make of this one.”

By the time Akira had roused from his slumber and made his descent downstairs with Morgana underfoot, both Sumire and Sojiro were utterly engrossed in the crossword, bouncing possible solutions off of each other excitedly.

“A synonym for ‘pierce’? What about ‘penetrate’?” Sumire proposed, but Sojiro shook his head.

“I don’t think so, there’s no way I don’t see how the ‘n’ fits with this other word. I haven’t got the foggiest idea of what it could…”

Sojiro trailed off into a moment of silent contemplation before he yelled aloud enthusiastically.

“Aha! A British title of nobility: what about a marquess?”

Sumire’s face lit up, following Sojiro’s train of thought.

“That’s it Sakura-san! Which means the other word must be… perforate?”

“Sure enough.” Sojiro nodded eagerly as he penned the letters into the crossword. “You’re one bright kid, let me tell you.”

“This is the most excited I’ve seen him all week.” Akira joked to Sumire as he shuffled into the adjacent seat with a yawn.

“At least I’m spending my morning stimulating the mind instead of lazing in bed.” Sojiro scoffed, turning to the pot of curry simmering on the kitchen hob. “If I didn’t know you had plans, I’d have hauled you down here myself to put you to work.”

Akira chuckled as Sojiro placed a plate of curry in front of both him and Sumire. The young redhead looked at the steaming plate of food in surprise and instinctively reached for her purse, but Sojiro shook his head with insistence.

“My treat. Call it thanks for the crossword.” Sojiro smiled. “Anyway, Sumire here tells me you’re off to Shibuya. Don’t suppose you can drop by that specialty supplier while you’re there?”

“It’s the least I can do.” Akira nodded.

“Great, I’ve set up a tab and I’ll call in advance, should just be a matter of picking up a bag or two.”

Akira and Sumire finished their food before confirming the plan for the day with Morgana: after taking care of the medal they’d found in Kamoshida’s Palace and making any necessary upgrades to their equipment, they were to meet Ann and Ryuji outside Shibuya station.

As the pair approached the door, a gruff grunt from Sojiro pulled Akira’s attention. His guardian tossed a small pair of keys on a keyring towards him, which Akira caught in his hand adeptly.

“Here, so I don’t need to wait around for you if you’re going to be out late. Just don’t give me reason to take them back, you hear?”

Akira smiled, and waved Sojiro off with a nod.

* * *

As he stepped through the front door of the airsoft shop, the first thing Akira was struck by was the familiar, artificial chill of its interior. The second was the sinister-looking man dressed in a suit staring down the owner, who remained seated behind the counter with his feet up and a magazine in hand.

“Stop wasting our time Mr. Iwai, we know what goes on in and around this store.” The suited man growled.

The surly manager glared at the man from above the magazine on his lap; eyebrows furrowed and a toothpick hanging from his mouth.

“For the last time, the only one wasting their time here is you. This is a place for enthusiasts and collectors, ain’t nothin’ here out of the ordinary.”

The man in the suit threw his arms up in anger, pushing past Akira and Sumire towards the door with a furious scowl painted across his face.

“Don’t think you can hide forever, asshole!”

The man stormed out of the store, leaving the pair stunned by his outburst. Iwai simply sighed and shook his head with a grumpy expression. He spoke without raising his eyes from the magazine.

“This is hardly an ideal date spot, you two. Buy something or scram.”

Sumire looked at Akira hesitantly, but Akira approached the counter and pulled a tightly wrapped plastic bag out of his pocket. He held it up with a smirk.

“Got something you might be interested in.”

Iwai stared at the young teenager incredulously, but his curiosity got the better of him. He swiped the bag from Akira’s grip and peered inside.

“A medal?” he scoffed. “Is it stolen?”

“Her family’s full of athletes.” Akira said, gesturing to Sumire beside him with his head as he begun to spin the lie he’d fabricated beforehand. “One of her relatives won it in the Olympics; said she had their blessing to sell it if she ever fell on hard times.”

“S’that so…” Iwai mumbled. He grabbed a magnifying instrument from beneath the counter and inspected the medal carefully. Akira watched with confidence: if it were an identical copy of the one Kamoshida revered, he had little doubt it was the genuine article.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” He said after a pause. “Though the fact that you’ve brought it here makes me think you don’t want too many eyes on this thing. How’s about I give you 30,000 yen for it and you can forget it ever existed.”

“Fine by me.” Akira nodded. Iwai stowed the plastic bag beneath the counter and pulled out three crisp, 10,000-yen notes. He slipped them into an envelope and handed it to Akira, who quickly stashed it into his coat. “Mind if we look around a bit as well?”

“Heh, you’re one strange pair of kids.” He said, waving his hand with a gesture of approval and turning his attention back to the magazine.

Akira picked out the ornate dagger he’d eyed on his first visit, while Sumire set her sights on a new rifle. They also grabbed a new firearm for Ann, as well as melee weapons for Ryuji and Morgana respectively.

They returned to the counter with weapons in hand. Iwai raised an eyebrow.

“Thought you said you’d fallen on hard times…”

Akira and Sumire looked at each other sheepishly and without a response. Iwai simply shrugged.

“That’s 46,000 yen.”

Akira repressed a bewildered cry as he reached for his wallet. He had only 8,000 yen of his own on hand, leaving him shy of the requested amount. He looked up at Iwai’s heavy, expectant gaze: the man spotted Akira’s lack of funds and interpreted his hesitation in an instant.

“Hmph. Tell you what kid…”

Iwai stepped into the back room behind the counter momentarily, returning with a small brown paper bag. He eyed the window cautiously before holding it aloft before them.

“You hold onto this for me: don’t look inside and don’t ask any questions. Bring it back here in a few days’ time and I can sell you those pieces for 38,000. How’s that sound?”

“Deal.” Akira said bluntly, handing Iwai the fee in exchange for the paper bag.

“Alright. Same shit applies; don’t go waving those pieces around, I don’t need no hassle. And stuff them under your clothes before you go, got it?”

Akira stashed the smaller armaments beneath his coat, while the larger pieces of equipment were buried into a gym bag Sumire had slung over her shoulder.

“See you soon, kid.” Iwai sneered as they slipped out of the shop.

As soon as they were outside, Morgana poked his head out from Akira’s bag. He peered through the shop window to confirm that Iwai had shifted his focus back to the magazine before nudging Akira in the side.

“Well come on, are you going to open it?” he pressed.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea Morgana-senpai?” Sumire asked, though she couldn’t refute her own curiosity as to the contents of the bag.

“I’d bet you any money it’s something that’ll help us out in the Metaverse. You’re thinking the same thing, right Akira?”

Though hesitant to encourage Morgana’s jeering, he’d hit the nail on the head. Akira shrugged, before peering into the brown paper bag. Sumire and Morgana leaned in to catch a glance of the pistol hidden inside: the sight of the weapon nestled into the bottom of the bag made the piece he’d been using look like a BB gun.

“Woah! Is that… real?” Morgana yelled, suddenly sounding much more uneasy.

“I don’t think so, but it certainly looks it.” Sumire pondered, taking a closer look. “Maybe you should ask him if we can buy it whenever you go back.”

“Good thinking.” Akira nodded. “Let’s find the others for now.”

When they arrived at Shibuya Station, Sumire was the first to spot their pair of allies leaning against a nearby lotto booth swiping through their phones. As soon as they approached, Ryuji looked at Akira with a child-like excitement.

“Yo, you pawned the medal? How much did you get for it?” Ryuji asked eagerly.

“Enough to get new equipment for all of us.” Akira responded. “Morgana, it’s about time you explain what the plan is here.”

Morgana hopped out of Akira’s bag and sat in front of the Thieves.

“Okay, first things first. Open up the website that Mishima guy sent you?”

“Huh? Mishima-kun’s website? What’s that got to do with the Metaverse?” Ann queried.

“You remember that message board people were posting to? Look for something serious. Oh, and make sure it has the person’s full name.”

As instructed, the four teens scanned their phones for information.

“There’s a whole lot of junk here…” Ryuji whined. “Listen to this: ‘my boyfriend keeps ignoring me to play video games with his friends. Is he cheating on me?’ Ugh…”

“I said something _serious_ Ryuji, stop slacking off.” Morgana hissed.

“Oh hey, what about this one?” Ann chimed in. “’My ex is stalking me; he’s really freaking me out and I don’t know what to do. His name is Natsuhiko Nakanohara.’ It’s a little concerning to see someone put another person’s full name up here on the internet, but would that work?”

“That’s perfect.” Morgana nodded cheerfully. “Okay Akira, see if the Meta-Nav picks up his name. Then use the keyword ‘Mementos’.”

As Akira entered the information, the app’s voice rung aloud.

_Beginning navigation._

“Huh?!” Ryuji yelled. “That actually worked!? What about the other keywords?”

“Ugh, you idiot…” Morgana lamented with a paw on his face. “Come on, I’ll explain inside.”

* * *

The Metaverse realm of Mementos was unlike either of the Palaces Akira had laid eyes upon. When they appeared in the Metaverse, there was no immediate evidence of any Palace at all; it wasn’t until Morgana led them into the depths of the Tokyo subway system that Mementos’ true nature was laid bare.

Tokyo’s subway had transformed into a winding labyrinth of tracks and tunnels. The rattling sound of train carriages permeated their surroundings, and the atmosphere was thick with a pervasive feeling of dread.

“This is Mementos: The Palace shared by the public.” Morgana announced as they passed through the turnstiles at the Palace’s entrance. “Folks like Kamoshida with especially distorted desires have their own Palaces, but everyone else has a chamber here in Mementos.”

“And you’re saying we can change this Nakanohara’s heart from inside here?” Akira affirmed, to which Morgana nodded heartily.

“Yep, we just need to find him.”

“But this place is huge! How are we going to find one person in the entire Tokyo subway?” Ryuji groaned.

“We’ll certainly have to do a lot of walking… The Tokyo subway network is well over a hundred miles long.” Sumire pouted.

“Hm-hm-hm-hm!” Morgana chuckled gleefully. “It’s time I show you all a glimpse of my limitless power!”

Morgana hopped in front of the party and thrust his arms into the air, spinning in circles with a bizarre dance.

“Morgana, TRANSFORM!”

He leapt into the air swiftly, lost amidst the shadows around the ceiling before he descended back down in front of them. But Morgana was no longer the same cat-like creature they’d grown familiar with; instead, a bizarre black van with cat ears and a tail stood before their eyes.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Akira mumbled beneath his breath.

“You can change into a car?! You’re amazing Morgana-senpai!” Sumire cheered with giddy excitement.

“How the hell is that even possible?” Ryuji muttered in disbelief, sharing Akira’s stunned expression.

“I have no idea. For some reason, ‘cats turning into buses’ is an extremely widespread cognition among the general public.”

“Well this will certainly make it easier to get around down here.” Ann said, hopping into the vehicle’s interior. The other three shortly followed: Akira and Sumire occupied the driver’s and passenger’s seats while Ryuji and Ann shuffled into the back.

“Uh, Senpai?” Sumire asked nervously, her eyes wandering across the dashboard which appeared identical to that of a normal car. “Do you know how to drive?”

“Sure.” Akira lied through his teeth. “I mean, I’ve got the gist of it. How hard can it be?”

After some brief trial and error, Akira finally found his footing behind the steering wheel. The Trickster accelerated down the shadowy tracks while the other three gazed out of the windows.

“So how are we going to find Nakanohara?” Akira asked, turning around a corner as he spun the steering wheel.

“There should be a strong distortion nearby: try up ahead and watch out for Shadows!”

Akira turned another sharp corner, only to find the grotesque form of a Shadow waiting on the other side. Gritting his teeth, he swerved aside and accelerated past the Shadow.

“This’ll take some getting used to…” he said, realigning the steering wheel and scanning the side mirrors.

“Hey Joker!” Ryuji interrupted, pointing towards a pulsating vortex at the end of a nearby railroad. “Over there, that’s gotta be it right?”

“For once, Skull’s right.” Morgana confirmed. “Full speed ahead Joker!”

Akira accelerated into the source of the distortion. As if travelling through a thick fog, the area in front of the windscreen was completely obscured in darkness until they emerged in a compact chamber.

A lone figure stood at the end of the space with their back turned; a sickly black energy enveloped their being. The Thieves stepped out to confront the Shadow, and Morgana returned to his usual form.

Ryuji was the first to speak up.

“Hey asshole, you the one being a creep and pestering their ex-girlfriend?”

The shadowy figure turned to face them with an angry scowl on his face. A pair of thick-rimmed glasses covered his golden eyes, and his hair was trimmed in a black bowl-style haircut.

A flash of recognition raced through Akira’s mind.

“Who are you?!” Nakanohara’s Shadow spat defiantly.

“Haven’t you stopped to consider how your ex feels?” Ann pressed further. “Pestering her is a horrible thing to do.”

“She treated me worse than dirt, like a plaything! What’s wrong with me doing the same!? Besides, there are countless people out there far worse than me. What about Madarame? He stole everything from me, but you’re letting him off the hook!?”

“That’s no way to justify mistreating someone else!” Sumire retorted.

Shadow Nakanohara growled a bestial cry as his form dissipated: with a flash of eldritch energy, he reappeared as an impish horned creature.

“Here he comes, watch out!” Morgana cried.

The Shadow lurched forward with startling agility and slashed towards Akira with its talons, but Ryuji dived in the way to parry the blow. Akira dashed to the side and pivoted into a swift thrust with his knife, ripping through the Shadow’s tough flesh with its razor-sharp edge. It let out a guttural cry as black ichor seeped from the open wound.

As the Shadow turned its focus from Ryuji to Akira and reeled back to strike, the deafening crack of a gunshot from Sumire’s rifle sounded out and the Shadow staggered from a shot to the back. Mirroring Joker’s position on the opposite side, she quickly emptied the spent cartridge and fired another round which crashed into the Shadow’s shoulder.

“He’s quick, but we can keep him pinned with gunfire!” Akira ordered as the other thieves nodded with affirmation. “Ryuji, stay on him as best you can.”

“You got it Joker!” Ryuji grinned. The teen rolled his shoulder and delivered a brutal swing, tossing Shadow Nakanohara backwards as he growled with contempt.

“Grrr… You people are really starting to irritate me…!” he roared.

“Be careful!” Morgana warned.

The impish Shadow descended into a rampage, unleashing a vicious flurry of attacks upon the Phantom Thieves. Ann dove backwards to evade the attack, but the rest of the party was swept up in a whirlwind of blows.

“Tch, he’s stronger than he looks.” Ryuji shouted, stumbling from the attack. He wiped his face with his sleeved arm.

“His attacks are turning desperate.” Ann noted. “I think we can beat him!”

“Panther, Senpai, see if you can draw his attention!” Sumire called out. Though unsure of what her plan could be, Akira and Ann nodded with affirmation.

Ann lashed her whip on the ground with a loud snap, startling the Shadow and locking its gaze on her. Akira fired his grappling hook to a nearby beam hanging from the ceiling and zipped around the Shadow in a semi-circle beside Ann, firing his pistol as he drifted through the air. The Shadow snarled angrily and shielded itself from the raining gunfire.

“Now!” the Trickster yelled.

Having already spotted her opening, Sumire vaulted off of Ryuji’s hands and hurtled forwards with her rapier. She zipped past the Shadow at breakneck speeds, letting loose with a series of precise slashes across the creature’s exposed back. As Sumire landed back on her feet with a pirouette, the Shadow staggered to the ground defeated.

“Nicely done!” Morgana cheered.

Nakanohara’s Shadow reverted from his bestial form: the sullen man glowered ashamedly; his unnerving iridescent eyes remained fixed to the floor.

“I-I’m sorry. I know what I was doing was wrong, but after the person I trusted used me and disposed of me, I… I don’t know what came over me.”

“You still trying to pass the buck onto someone else?” Ryuji frowned with a huff. “C’mon man, cut it-“

Akira silenced him with an outstretched hand. He kept his eyes on Nakanohara.

“You were at Shibuya General Hospital, weren’t you?”

Nakanohara looked up.

“A friend of mine… We were pupils together learning art under Madarame. But Madarame plagiarised our work: everything we painted was released to the public under his name. That pupil couldn’t take it. He… took his own life. That grief led me to obsess over my ex-girlfriend. I needed someone… anyone… that wouldn’t betray my trust like Madarame did.”

He pleaded with a desperate look in his eyes.

“Won’t you change Madarame’s heart? Please, if not for me, then for the pupils still working under him.”

The others looked at Nakanohara with a mixture of sympathy and shock, but Akira simply stared at him with determination.

“You don’t have to worry. We’ll take care of it.”

Nakanohara’s agitated face softened and he smiled peacefully. A soft blue light enveloped him.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

As the light coalescing around his body grew stronger, the Shadow disappeared in a bright flash of energy. The Thieves were alone in the chamber.

“Phew.” Ryuji sighed. “Well, this is certainly a good place to get stronger.”

“But what should we do about what Nakanohara said?” Ann questioned with a conflicted expression. “Surely we ought to look into this Madarame guy?”

“It definitely sounds like something we should look into.” Morgana agreed. “But stealing Yoshizawa-san’s treasure should come first, right Violet?”

Sumire, who had been quiet, perked up upon mention of her codename. She nodded slowly.

“Morgana’s right.” Akira concluded. “We’ll follow up on this lead as soon as we can, but we can’t abandon Kasumi. For now, let’s take the opportunity to train up while we’re here. We need to be ready for anything next time we go back to her Palace.”

They all nodded in unison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a lot of fun with this chapter: couldn't help but include some fun scenes with Iwai and Sojiro. As always, thank you for all of the comments and support, it means the world to me.  
> Other notes:
> 
> \- Since Akira and Akechi play billiards in the original game, I figured I'd switch things up and have them compete over darts. Also who knew that the metal parts on a dartboard were called 'spiders'? Certainly not me.
> 
> \- Nakanohara made a brief appearance all the way back in chapter 3, kudos to anyone who picked up on it.


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